A Strange Bargain
by Chloechum
Summary: When a girl makes an unexpected bargain, Jareth can't resist finding out more about this strange mortal. But they'll both be getting more than he bargained in the Underground...rated M, just to be safe. *usual disclaimers*
1. A Bargain Made

Hey people! This is my first fic, I hope you enjoy. I always appreciate constructive criticism, so please review. I don't own the Labyrinth or Jareth, I just wish I did. And btw I am Australian, so expect Australian spellings etc. Happy reading!

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Claire's mother didn't protest when she wanted to bundle her brother into bed for the third time that week. Some quality time with her small son would have been nice, but she knew her daughter wanted to spend as much time as possible with Sam. She watched them go up the stairs a little sadly, but banished tears and got to work with the dishes.

"Mum, where's that little red book that Aunt Sarah left with that pile of dress-up clothes today?" Claire called from upstairs.

"On your brother's bedside table!" She called back.

Claire looked around the room, moving aside the toys that were typical to a five-year-old boy's room, and located it beneath a model helicopter.

"Is this a good story Claire? Will there be monsters and pirates?" Sam asked, snuggling up against his sister as she sat on the edge of his bed.

"I don't know, I've never read it, silly. I don't even know if it's appropriate for little boys, Aunt Sarah has some weird tastes. Actually I don't think she knew it was amongst those clothes...hey we'll make up some great games with the dress ups tomorrow, won't we?"

"Nah, they're all girls' clothes! Hey, there are no pictures in this book!"

"I've told you, you don't need pictures, just imagine them. Hm, I don't know that this is a good one to read. Look, here a girl's wishing that the goblins would take her brother away. How mean, I'd never do that, unless my little brother was being _really_ naughty...!" Claire teased her little brother.

"I'm a good boy Claire, don't wish me away!" her brother replied, getting out from under his blankets and bouncing on the bed.

"Hey, back into bed now, or I'll wish you away!"

"No! I want to play dress up! Now! Now! Now!" He laughed, bouncing with each world.

"Quick Sam, I might say it. I wish..."

"No!" Sam laughed.

"That the goblins..." Sarah replied, trying to keep a straight face.

"No no!" He tried to snatch the book from her, giggling madly.

"Would come and take you away, right now!"

Sam leaped on Claire and they both tumbled to the floor.

"Oh I'm sorry Claire, did I hurt you?" Sam's fingers touched her head with gentleness uncommon in a young, boisterous boy.

"No buddy I'm fine. Let's get you into bed though..." her world were cut off by an odd sizzling sound, and the lights went out. Silence descended.

Claire was suddenly aware that the room, the whole house, was silent.

"Sam? What are you up to?"

She slowly got up and patted around her, thinking her brother might have hidden in fear, or as a new game.

"Sam?" Something brushed her knee, and she couldn't help but jump up with a gasp.

She felt her way over to the window and opened the curtains, thinking that the moonlight might help her. An eerie green glow flooded the room and Claire heard a strange rattling noise. It was the window, shaking. Trembling and confused, Claire reached out a hand to touch it, to confirm what she was seeing and hearing.

What was this? Some strange kind of hallucination? Was she going mad? She looked around the room again, bewildered, not even beginning to try to imagine where her brother had gone. Skittering shadows filled the room. She turned back to the window, and noticed the sky was cloudless. Slowly, she looked around again, and the shadows were gone. Rather than being relieved, Claire felt even more ill. She looked back at the window only to jump back with a shriek as they flung open and a shape hurtled into the room.

Claire threw herself away from the oncoming object and huddled on the floor, covering her head with her arms.

But nothing happened. Silence.

After what seemed an age, Claire lifted her head.

Boots.

Legs.

A body leaning against the end of her brother's bed.

"I haven't answered a call from a mortal in years. But I was curious..." the strange man spoke casually, as though this kind of thing happened every day. Claire gaped at him from the floor.

"...where did you get the book?"

After a very pregnant pause, Claire realised that he actually wanted an answer.

"My...my aunt Sarah left it with a bunch of dress up clothes for my brother and me to play with. Actually I don't think she meant to leave the book but it got mixed up with things she was getting rid of and things she was giving away and things she was giving us, I thought it might be a good one to read to Sam..." Claire, realising she was babbling, shut her mouth with a snap. She stood up, slowly, carefully, watching the strange man as one watches a spider that's suddenly far too close for comfort.

A small, amused grin curled onto the man's face.

"Your Aunt Sarah should know better, but then, she has forgotten most of her lessons..." he was speaking more to himself, but Claire couldn't help asking: "what does Aunt Sarah have to do with anything? And...do you have my brother? Please..?"

The man looked back at her sharply, making her cringe.

"You asked that your brother be taken by the goblins, and I am the Goblin King. Yes, I have you brother. Would you like him back?"

The man, stretched out a hand, and Claire gasped as a shining pocket watch appeared, swinging on a golden chain.

"You can have thirteen hours in which to solve my Labyrinth. If you make it through to my castle, you can have him back. If you don't..."

The man gave a graceful shrug and a sidelong glance.

"What?" whispered Claire, unable to stop herself but not really wanting to know.

"He will become one of us forever. You'll forget he ever was." The words sounded fake, recited, like the strange man, the Goblin King didn't really care for the situation. He sounded almost...bored. That irritated Claire.

"No."

That startled the man, the Goblin King. He stood a little straighter, scowled a little deeper.

"No? You forsake the boy so easily? Are you that weak willed?"

"No. I won't gamble for my brother's life. It was my folly, I'll pay the price. I'll go in his stead. He can remain here and..."

Claire's voice wobbled. She took a breath, clutching the bookshelf.

"...and forget about me."

The Goblin King regarded her with surprise. This was a scenario new to him. There was often bargaining attempts, pleading, arguing. But never such a simple..._acceptance._

"You'll forsake all hope of returning? Agree to become a member of my world forever?"

Claire nodded.

The Goblin King mulled it over. His purpose wasn't to steal children. He had no need for them. It was to teach people the value of children and the power in words, even words you do not mean. He seldom kept the children he stole, even when the challenger invariably failed to solve the Labyrinth. There was that one time he had played for keeps...but he'd learned his lesson there, and rarely even thought of it. But this girl was interesting, and different to most others of her kind. He wanted to know her better. And there was something he could sense in her, a quiet strength that was almost suffocated by...something.

He sighed in frustration. This girl was strangely hard to read, almost removed from her own world. But how could that be so?

"Alright." The word leaped from his mouth almost before he even realised.

Claire blinked, but her face betrayed nothing. She's hidden all emotion in a tight ball in her chest and faced the Goblin King unwaveringly.

"Are you afraid of me, girl?" For the first time, his eyes roved over the girl, taking in her slender limbs, fine hair and vivid blue eyes. He allowed the hint of a predatory smile to creep onto his face, wanting to get a reaction, any reaction.

"Yes." She answered steadily.

"You hold the life of me and my brother in your hand. And you seem to control powers I didn't think existed two minutes ago. I don't even think you're human. Yes I'm afraid of you."

The King threw back his head in a genuine laugh.

"An honest human! Now I've seen it all!" In one swift motion, he strode towards Claire. Before she had a chance to move, he swept his cloak over her head. A bright light filled her vision, and she cried out with as a lance of pain shot through her head. Her knees crumbled and she found herself kneeling on stone.

Removing her arms from over her face, Claire looked around to find herself in a large room. The walls were covered in tapestries and a large wooden chair, clearly a throne, stood at the other end. The King watched her, face unreadable in the dim light.

"Where am I?" Claire asked, her face pale.

"In my domain."

"And my brother, he's safe at home?" The King nodded.

"And everyone...everyone has forgotten I was ever born?" She looked like she was about to throw up.

"Yes. Beginning to regret your hasty words? Do you understand the magnitude of what you've done? You will spend the rest of your life here. You may as well have never existed, girl." His voice was savage, mocking, trying to provoke one _normal_ reaction from this girl.

"No." She said, her eyes unfocused.

"That's perfect."

She fainted.


	2. Chapter 2  What's the Game?

Hey guys! Chapter two is here and three is on the way. I got a bit of interest for chapter one, which makes it all worth it. I'd love to see some reviews - constructive criticism is always welcome. Enjoy :)

Oh yes, I don't own Jareth, nor the Labyrinth, nor anything else Jim Henson related. I do, however, own Claire. I'd be happy to swap though.

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Jareth caught the girl with his magic out of habit – a habit learned a few hundred years ago when girls wore corsets and fainted regularly.

As she floated, suspended in the air, he regarded her prone form with interest. He hadn't taken the girl to be a fainter; he hadn't struck one of those in a while. Girls from aboveground these days were generally much...angrier, than this one appeared to be. Always talking about their "rights" and "fairness" and how "he'd be sorry."

With a flick of his wrist she transported her to a spare chamber. He strode off to attend his own business, promptly forgetting the girl.

Claire awoke next morning to a splitting headache. She reached with shaking hands into her pocket and thanked every deity she could think of when she found a half empty bottle of pain medicine. She didn't know what she'd do after they ran out, but it would be worth it...

"Morning love."

Claire was interrupted from such grim thoughts by the pleasant voice of a plump, wrinkled maid who bustled into the room. Claire watched as she set a tray on a small wooden table under the window and opened the curtains. The maid then turned to her, hands on hips, with a faintly amused expression.

"Well I'll be. I must say this is a new one. Luring people into the Labyrinth makes sense – of a kind – but why he's brought you here I've no idea! He's not set you any challenges, any tasks to complete before you return home?"

Claire blinked.

"I don't think I am returning. I told...his highness, that I'd take the place of my brother - the one I accidentally wished away – and never leave if he'd release my brother." Claire explained haltingly.

"I thought he'd turn me into a goblin or something."

"A goblin? Well I'll dare say he does that with some of them that he steals. But the amount of goblins he's got running around _that_ place is more than enough if you ask me. He finds jobs for them though, around the Underground..."

"What's the Underground?"

"This is the Underground. This world, as opposed to your world dear, Aboveground."

"But..." Claire frowned, rubbing her head.

"I thought this was the Castle Beyond the Goblin City."

"Good grief! Thank heavens it isn't! The Labyrinth and the castle beyond the goblin city are just a part of the Underground. This castle is one of his highness's homes (as seldom as he's here, god bless him). You people call him the Goblin King, but a more accurate title would be King of the Goblins, since he's their king but not one himself. And he's king of much more than that; he's the overlord of most of this world."

The maid (or housekeeper as Claire had come to think of her, since she spoke of Jareth with such motherly tones and had an air of no-nonsense authority) seated herself on the edge of Claire's bed and spoke in a confiding voice. Abruptly she clapped her hands together and hopped up.

"Well my dear, breakfast awaits, and there are some clothes in chest yonder. After you're ready, come find me in the kitchen (don't worry dear, someone will show you the way) and I'll show you around." With that, the woman left.

Claire got up slowly, her head spinning. She dressed without noticing the plain, dark green skirt that just brushed her ankles, and a white blouse with gold embroidery that she pulled from the chest. She ate her breakfast, more interested in the garden she spied from her window than the bread and cheese the housekeeper had left.

She found her way to the kitchen, guided by some disinterested servants who informed her that the woman she'd been speaking to was, in fact, the housekeeper who was known to all as Trudie.

"Now girlie." Trudie said, as she bustled about the galley kitchen. "What will ye do while you're here? No doubt his highness will remember you after a while and come back to check on you, or give you a position somewhere in the kingdom. Until then I think we'd best treat you as a member of the court, not that there's much of one here. A few court minstrels, court artists, visiting nobles his highness doesn't want poking their noses around his main business palace...anyway, you're free to do as you like, so long as you don't stray beyond the castle walls and stay out of his highness's wing of the castle. But there's a library, the gardens, drawing rooms where you can chat or play cards – if ye can find anyone to chat or play cards with that is..."

"Please, might I go to the library?" Claire interrupted the stream of talk. Within a few minutes, a helpful kitchen hand had shown her to the library and she immersed herself in the stories, maps, legends, histories and poems that Jareth's library had to offer.

It was a week later that Jareth remembered Claire, and watched her for a while as she sat in a big leather chair, surrounded by books. He almost dropped his crystal in surprise. He'd been expecting her to be in the midst of an escape attempt. He had, of course, set spells around the castle that would keep leading Claire back to the castle gate as soon as she was out of sight of the gardens (a spell he found greatly amusing). Perhaps, he thought, she was concocting a plan and researching all she could before she made her escape. When he spied the maps and books around her, he was satisfied that this was what was happening.

A week later he remembered Claire again. He summoned a crystal and again was faced with Claire sitting quite contentedly, reading. With a muttered oath, Jareth snapped his fingers and appeared in the library.

It took Claire a few moments to realise that a thunderous looking Goblin King was standing before her. With a gasp she fell off her chair.

"Get up you silly girl, and tell me what your game is."

"Game?" Claire asked, hauling herself up from the pile of books and leaning on the mantelpiece above the fire, warming her hands. She deliberately avoided his mismatched eyes.

Jareth moved until he stood directly in front of her.

"Yes, mistress. Game. Why do you sit day after day in this library? Anyone else in your place would be making escape attempts daily." He spoke the last few words with scorn, and strode away from the fire. With a flick of his wrist, a book sailed off the floor into his hand.

"Poetry? You sit reading poems from the Eastern Steppes? Are you mad, girl?" Jareth demanded, smirking at her.

Claire blushed, and held her head a little higher.

"I gave my word that I would stay, sir. Clearly you think little of my people, but I wouldn't go back on my word like that." She considered a moment.

"And I like those poems. They remind me of Tennyson."

Jareth raised an eyebrow.

"Well well, a woman of your word, are you? Forgive me for daring to doubt your honour." He let go of the book, but instead of it falling, it disappeared, along with the pile around the chair. Claire would later find them exactly where they belonged.

"Fine, if you wish to play by the rules, so be it. You may have noticed I have little use for Aboveground teenager girls here. Well..." he took the opportunity to leer suggestively at Claire. She rolled her eyes, recognising Jareth for the melodramatic villain he liked to play, not believing it for a second.

"I have a new game for you. If you can figure out a way to get to the castle beyond the goblin city, and then through the labyrinth to the Silver Doors, you will find yourself at home as though no time has passed at all." He sauntered about the chamber as he spoke, then turned to her, his eyes glittering, relishing the way he could manipulate these humans, bend them to his will.

"I won't give you a time limit, since you will need years to understand the way this world works, if you ever even begin. I have little fear of you succeeding though; you will surely give up in despair. And I cannot guarantee your safety. This world is a perilous place. You never know what may be lurking in your own garden..." as he spoke, he faded slowly, until all that was left was a cloud of fine glitter.

Claire, who had been standing resolutely, gripping the mantelpiece with white-knuckled hands, slowly sank in relief. She stumbled back to the chair and leaned heavily on the arm rest. She tried to be strong in his eyes, but there was no denying the affect his presence had on her.

He terrified her. Though she felt sure he wouldn't touch her (surely he would have already, if he was that way inclined?) but she knew well he held power of life and death over her. In this world, she was his property, to be disposed of as he willed. She was under no illusions of safety.

Her gaze was drawn – almost against her will – to the window. She could just see the high stone wall that stood beyond the trees. Claire sighed, chose another book, and sat down to read again.

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	3. Chapter 3  The Secret

Thakns so much for your support, my lovely readers! As you can see, your reviews motivate me to write :) This chapter has a lot in it, but I'm eager to get to the actual story. Enjoy!

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Jareth was kept busy for the next few days, but returned to the castle as soon as he could. He appeared in his throne, lounging as though he'd been relaxing there for hours. His well trained servants simply offered him food and drink, which he waved away.

"Trudie!" he yelled, and the housekeeper appeared in front of him with a pop. Interrupting her stream of welcomes and how-de-do's, he asked after his "guest."

"How are the escape attempts going? Has she figured a way past the spells on the gate? I imagine she's be one who would try to corrupt you against me, hoping to buy information from you..." he faded off from such pleasant imaginings when he saw Trudie shaking her head slowly.

"No your highness, the girl hasn't gone near the gate. I think she's sickening for something; pining, like. She used to sit in the library and read. Now she wanders in the garden like a ghost, often falls asleep there until I go out to fetch her for dinner. She barely eats and ..." she was cut off by Jareth's sudden disappearance. Used to this, she returned to her work.

Jareth had appeared in the garden, next to Claire. She was sleeping in the shade of a slender birch, her back to a bubbling stream. He crouched next to her face, examining her with owl-sharp eyes. He stood quickly and moved a few steps back, unpleasantly surprised. Claire was beyond pale – she looked like a corpse. Her cheeks were sunken and her brow furrowed, even in sleep. He sat down heavily on a garden seat that conveniently appeared next to the sleeping girl.

Moments later Claire woke, her instincts alert to the alien presence. She stared blearily at the boots she was sure hadn't been there when she fell asleep, and then sat up with a gasp.

"I find your unwillingness to escape most intriguing." The goblin king said his careless - yet predatory - mask back in place.

"I usually find mortals quite predictable. I can always figure out a motive, but you..." he narrowed his eyes and stared at the girl, as though trying to read her soul. Claire, unwilling to grovel at the king's feet, hauled herself up and leaned against the birch, arms crossed, trying to appear casual.

"I'm sorry to cause you anguish, sire. I don't recall ever being thought of as unpredictable Aboveground. Perhaps times have changed and you no longer understand mortals as you once did."

"People are essentially the same, no matter what era they hale from. But you have a secret, and once I understand your secret, I will understand you. Therefore, I intend to find out what it is." They glared at each other a few moments, before Claire tore her eyes away, feeling dizzy with the power she saw there.

Abruptly, the King moved, swinging his feet up onto the seat and his expression lifted.

"A day for you is but a moment for me, and I have years to find you out. I didn't come here to interrogate you, but to give you warning. I am having a banquet here in a few days, to celebrate the birthday of one of my dukes. As a member of the court, you're required to attend. I trust you've no objection?" Claire shook her head mutely.

"Good." He disappeared.

The day before the banquet, Claire his in her room as guests arrived. She watched out the window as people – strange people they were too – drove through the gates in carriages pulled by horses of strange colours. Most had the same otherworldly air as Jareth, but some were quaint and fairy-tale-like. Some were tall and willowy, with hair that moved in a non-existent breeze. None, and Claire was certain of this – were human.

As twilight fell, Trudie bustled into Claire's room.

"Here you are dear. I found this gown for you to wear. I didn't think you'd want anything too tizzy – you bein' s' quiet and all – but you wouldn't want to embarrass his majesty by bein' dowdy. I think it will fit you, we may have to find a nice belt – you're far too thin my girl!" She carried on in this manner as she jollied a very reluctant Claire into the gown. It was deep blue velvet, with wide sleeves that fell to her elbows. The skirt was full, and made a pleasant swish against the stone floor. The neckline was a simple v, which showed a little more cleavage than Claire would have liked. Trudie twisted Claire's hair into a simple, loose plait and threaded some thin chains through it. She insisted that the outfit was entirely appropriate for one of Claire's station (what station? Claire wondered) and sent Claire along to the throne room.

Claire knew the castle quite well by now, and snuck into the room via a servant's entrance to avoid being announced. As she sidled along the room to the table where she knew she was to be seated, Jareth caught her eye. His lips twitched, but he didn't give her away. He returned to his conversation.

Abruptly a bell chimed, and everyone went to their seats. Claire watched those around her, and stood as they did – to the left of their seats with their eyes on Jareth. He sauntered to his table at the head of the room. A table had been set up on the dais, in front of the throne. To his right sat an ancient, balding little fellow with a very red nose who kept chuckling. Claire presumed this was the duke.

Jareth stood behind his chair, and a golden goblet appeared before him. It was encrusted with tiny jewels. If Claire was closer, she would have seen that they formed the shape of owls and stars. He raised his goblet, and silver goblets appeared in front of all his guests. They followed their king, Claire a few seconds behind everyone else.

"To his Grace, Sir Danvers of the Eastern Steppes. May his rule be long and fruitful."

"Hear hear!" The guests cried, and sipped their wine. Claire put hers to her lips and gagged. The rich fruitiness was too much. She gripped the chair with shaking hands, and sat down with relief when the king did. Her dinner partner, a willowy young man with light brown skin and black hair that shone green in the light, eyed her with concern.

"Lady, are you alright?" He touched her arm lightly, and Claire saw he had a pattern of leaves beneath his skin on the back of his hand. She looked up in surprise.

"Yes, thank you, I'm just not used to such...gatherings." she finished lamely.

He smiled kindly, but his eyes were still concerned.

"I imagine it would be overwhelming, for one such as you. But never fear, I think most of the guests will pay you little heed. His majesty has many strange guests." He gestured around the hall at the myriad of people. Claire noticed that most of the groups seemed to stick to their own kind, paying little attention to anyone else. She nodded in relief.

Then the food came. Each dish was rich, full of strong flavours and colours. Each one she picked at, trying to bring herself to eat. The smells made her stomach heave, and her eyes blurred. She reached for her pocket, before remembering she wasn't wearing her usual outfit, and that she had to medicine left anyway. She gave up trying to eat, and sipped a goblet of water the kind young tree-man had found for her. Her head spun, and the laughter of the guests pounded at her temples. The room began to tilt and sway, and Claire stood abruptly.

"Excuse me, I feel a little unwell." Claire told her partner. The words cost her much effort to form, and she shook her head at his offer to escort her from the room, not really hearing his words. She walked from the room, staring straight ahead, each footstep feeling like a marathon.

Jareth neither heard nor saw the girl leave. He was too busy smiling benignly at the chatter of his guest of honour, when he felt another mind brush his. He tensed up immediately, until he recognised the telepathic voice of Hadrian, Claire's dinner partner.

Jareth frowned. He was not fond of the tree-people, who lived in a remote forest at the feet of the most dangerous mountain range of his kingdom. While officially he was their overlord, Jareth knew he held little authority over them. Their powers were strange and foreign, but as long as Jareth let them be, they didn't object to his rule. He knew this one personally, being an ambassador of kinds. Jareth knew Hadrian didn't look kindly on his interaction with Aboveground, and his way of ruling.

_Sire, look to your prisoner. There is something fearful wrong with her. She smells of death._

The voice was disapproving, and lingered over the word "prisoner." Jareth snarled mentally at the order, but automatically looked for Claire. Not seeing her, he sent his mind out for her presence. She was in the corridor outside the hall. He didn't want to obey Hadrian, but knew that the tree people had excellent powers of perception. He also knew that Hadrian wouldn't have spoken to him unless the need was great. Grinding his teeth in frustration, he disappeared from the hall, but not before casting a spell that would make his guests oblivious to his sudden departure.

He appeared in the corridor, a little way down from Claire. She leaned heavily against the wall, her chest heaving, her face shining with sweat. Suddenly, Jareth understood.

He remembered how she had said that it was "perfect" that her family would forget her. He saw her leaning heavily against the mantelpiece in the library and the tree in the garden. He remembered Trudie's words about her eating little, becoming thin and falling asleep in the gardens. He thought about her unwillingness to escape, even when he had given her leave to try.

"You're dying." Claire looked up, eyes full of pain, and looked away.

"You knew you were dying when you came. You decided this would be a perfect way to save your family the pain of your death!" He was unexplainably angry.

"No..." Claire gasped, fearful of his anger.

"I'm fine. The hall..." she gestured vaguely

"It was so hot, and I was so nervous...I just needed some air...I feel better now." She heaved herself up and stood straighter, her shoulder braced to the wall.

"Don't insult my intelligence, wench. That wall is the only thing holding you up."

Claire met his eyes and took a few steps away from the wall. She stood, feet apart, fists clenched.

"There, Goblin King."

They faced each other silently. Jareth watched as the remaining colour drained from her face.

Claire gasped and threw out her hands as the floor suddenly tilted to meet her, and the goblin king flew forward with inhuman speed and caught her. Gently, he lowered her to the floor. She leaned against the wall, and he knelt beside her, his anger dissipating as tears began to flow from his prisoner's eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It was dishonest; to tell you I'd take my brother's place when I had only a few months to live. But I couldn't let him go! I'd never have been able to save him, and I couldn't let my parents lose both their children! And when you said they'd forget me...I couldn't resist being able to die without causing anyone pain. But I never knew it would be this hard, the pain! My head...I just want it all to end! I even tried to jump off the balcony from the tower, but I couldn't even climb the stairs!" she broke down, sobbing. Guilt, frustration, homesickness, grief and anguish from the weeks she'd spent Underground poured from her.

Jareth frowned. The girl felt guilty for misleading him? So she was a creature of honour after all! It wasn't just an excuse for not trying to escape...he winced at the conflict he must have created in this dying girl when he released her from her promise not to escape.

Jareth removed the leather gloves he always wore, and summoned power to his hands. They shone with magic, and he touched them softly to Claire's head. He eyes fluttered shut.

Jareth went inside her mind, and recoiled from the darkness there. A tumour, pulsating like an evil presence dominated the space. It absorbed the pearly glow of Claire's life-force, and sent poison out through her veins. With one mighty bolt of magic, Jareth destroyed the tumour that had been killing Claire slowly.

Claire screamed, and clutched Jareth's hands. She opened her eyes, opened her mouth as if to speak, then fainted dead away.

Carefully, Jareth picked her up and transported her back to her chamber. Tucking her carefully into bed, he reached out with his mind to Hadrian.

_I thank you for your warning, you were right. Hadrian..._ here Jareth paused, his pride at odds with his need to save Claire.

_You have healing powers that I cannot comprehend. Would you please stay for a few days and look after the girl? I have killed the poison in her mind, but her body is weak, and may not yet recover._

A long pause followed his words as Hadrian considered.

At last, Hadrian replied.

_I will, but not for you. _

Jareth barely noticed this almost treasonous statement. He simply returned to the banquet.

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Read? Review!

Crimsonlove4eva: I'm impressed you were perceptive enough to get the hints. As you'll have read, your suspicions were confirmed :)

.: Thanks for your feedback, this is my first attempt at an ongoing fan fic, so your support is really appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4 Collision

Hey lovely readers! Thanks again for your reviews, they make the late nights worthwhile. I was planning on a bit more action, but I feel this dialogue is important to the plot. Hope you enjoy this next chapter anyway!

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Five days later a sweet, subtle melody wound its way into Claire's dreams. It drew her away from the comforting black of unconsciousness and into lucidity. She slowly became aware that she was lying on her back, after that she realised she must be in bed. She sighed softly listening to the music.

_There was music. Music was playing...which meant someone was playing the music...which meant someone was in her room._

Claire's eyes flew open with a gasp. They lit upon a strange looking man. His odd appearance distracted her for a moment from the fact that she was in a room she didn't recognise. Unable to form words, she lay staring at the man with wide, frightened eyes. The man smiled, and put down the small harp-like instrument he'd been plucking.

"I'm going to assume you're about to ask the same questions you asked the last few times you woke up. I'm Hadrian, I'm an elf – or tree man, as some call us – and you're in a castle of the goblin king." He watched her for a moment with growing concern as she continued to stare.

"Do you remember any of the last few weeks?"

Claire frowned, images swirling through her mind.

"I remember...him...in my room. He took my brother... I came here; I sat in the library...the last thing I remember was his highness telling me to come to a party or something. After that..." she shook her head in frustration.

"I'm not surprised Claire, you were very sick, it's amazing you survived as long as you did."

"Wh-what do you mean?" Claire said, looking away guiltily.

"Jareth – the king – figured out your secret and killed the tumour in your head. But your body was still very weak so he asked me to look after you. I have more skill in medicine; his majesty relies too much on his magic, which isn't good for mortals. Oh it was necessary to bring you back from the brink of death, but he knew you needed more traditional care if you were going to survive. And..." Hadrian smiled, looking pleased with himself.

"I think you'll make it." He moved to her bedside to feel her forehead. As he did, she caught a glimpse of the pattern of leaves under the skin on his hand. A memory stirred.

"You look familiar. Have we met?" she asked.

"Yes, we met at the banquet briefly. We also spoke a few times over the last few days when you woke for a few moments and I managed to coax some food into you. Most of what you said was fairly nonsensical, I didn't think you'd remember much of it."

"Oh." Claire's thoughts spun as she tried to take in all that Hadrian had told her. As he turned for the door, Claire gave a little gasp and called out for him to wait. Alarmed, Hadrian turned.

"I never thanked you. I guess you saved my life. And I am...thankful, I mean." Hadrian gave an oddly bitter smile, bowed, and told her he was going to fetch some food.

As he rounded the corner, Hadrian came face to face with Jareth, who was leaning against the wall in what Hadrian fancied was an insolent attitude.

"I take it our patient is awake. She'll recover fully, do you think?"

"I'd much prefer, sire, if you wouldn't spy on me with those things." Hadrian indicated the crystal that Jareth was twirling.

"They're distracting."

"Regardless of what you think of my methods of keeping track of the wellbeing of my subjects, _ambassador,_ I would like to know if she will recover..."

"You subject? That girl belongs Aboveground with her family, not caged here – a prisoner of your sadistic games and fancies."

"That girl would be dead if it weren't for me." Jareth returned, his eyes glittering dangerously.

"Perhaps she's rather be dead where she belongs than a prisoner for the rest of eternity here." Hadrian hissed.

"Well _that's_ hardly your place to say. Most people would agree that it's our duty to give everyone a chance at life. That's my purpose, to gather the unwanted and give them a purpose..."

"Don't insult me. You've been abusing your _purpose _for years. Neither she nor her brother were unwanted, as you well know. They were playing a game! And what purpose can that poor child have here? Clearly you don't intend to make her one of your _goblin_ children, what are you planning on doing with her?"

"Jealous, are we Hadrian? And how do you know so much about Claire's circumstances?"

Hadrian snapped. He rounded on Jareth and appeared to tower over him in his anger. His voice shaking with passion, he yelled:

"She told me, over and over in her delirium, that she'd rather be dead than a prisoner for the rest of her life! My god Jareth, she begged me to kill her rather than give her back to your care. She's terrified of you! Do you know how hard it was for me? Ordered to save her by _you?"_

Jareth flinched, but continued to meet his ambassador's eyes. Power and tension crackled audibly between them.

"I think, ambassador, that you have become too close to the situation. You've told me before that you begin to sicken for your woods when confined too long to one place. Return then, and I thank you for your extra duties."

It was Hadrian's turn to flinch.

"I will farewell the child..."

"You shall not. I wouldn't want you to upset her, nor become more upset yourself. I will send your belongings within the hour." Jareth's expression was cool and professional. Hadrian's was livid.

"You're a manipulative bastard Jareth, and always have been. You'll be the death of that girl."

"Be careful, _old friend._ Your words border on treason. I would hate to have to order the execution of father's protégé."

Knowing he'd overstepped, Hadrian summoned his power and disappeared from Jareth's presence. Such an action was completely against protocol, but he didn't care.

Jareth stood a few moments, his face blank. Suddenly he drew back his fist and punched the wall. It shattered in a spider web pattern - like a mirror - under his inhuman strength.

Thousands of miles across the kingdom, Hadrian appeared on the edge of the wood he called home. He staggered, exhausted. His magic wasn't for big feats like apparation, but for delicate charms and subtle glamours, or slow but potent curses. Despite his fatigue, he used one now.

"Whether it takes a hundred years, _Jareth_, you will pay."

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Okay, perhaps this is a little melodramatic, but it was heaps of fun to write! The plot thickens, and Claire looks like she's to be caught between a battle of wills. What's going to happen next? Even I'm not entirely sure! Please review and give me your thought, ideas, criticisms – I appreciate them all


	5. Chapter 5 Free To Try

Hey all! Sorry I haven't updated for a while, unfortunately university applications come first! As per usual I'd love reviews and constructive criticism. If you see any errors please let me know since I don't have a beta. Enjoy!

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"Lord Hadrian had to leave."

Claire started at the voice. The Goblin King regarded her pale face as he lounged in the doorway.

Was what Hadrian said true? That she'd rather be dead than his prisoner for life? She looked frightened yes, but she tilted up her chin in determination. No, he couldn't believe that. Hadrian must have been exaggerating, to upset him.

"Trudie will look after you now." He watched her with a piercing gaze a few moments longer, then disappeared from her sight.

Claire's stiff posture crumbled. She drew the blankets up to her chin and drew in a shuddering breath. It escaped her as two sharp sobs. Her breathing calmed, slowly. Now she truly was this creature's prisoner. Forever. Unless...

Claire frowned, a memory stirring...they'd made a new deal, hadn't they? If she made her way to the labyrinth – no, _through _the labyrinth to the...Silver Gates? Doors? – then she'd be free. It wouldn't be easy; somehow she doubted she'd even make it past the gate without some effort. But now she had a purpose. She rejected the memory of the girl she'd been since her arrival here: weak, surrendering, pathetic. She wouldn't stay here as a prisoner. Or she'd die trying.

A few days later, when Trudie allowed her to leave her room, Claire returned to the library. She vaguely remembered books about the labyrinth – those, she wanted to re-read – and she had an idea there were a few maps of the Underground. She'd learned that she couldn't remove books from the library (when she tried to carry them out of the room they'd disappear from her hands and reappear on the shelves), but she wanted to make copies of them.

After finding a likely looking one, she carried it to a desk, found a pen, ink and paper, and began to sketch. She knew she'd never make a very accurate map, but she fancied a basic one – featuring mountains, lakes, forests, towns castles etc – would be handy. A few hours later, when this was complete, she went looking for the books on the labyrinth. She wasn't entirely surprised to find them missing.

Instead she went to a shelf, hidden in shadows in an obscure corner and pulled out a book she'd come across by accident. It was dusty, the pages yellow and fragile with age. It was simply called: _Creatures and Peoples of the Underground_. She leafed through the pages carefully, until she found the chapter she was looking for.

_The King/ Goblin King/ Underground Lord/ Emperor of the Fey/ Overlord of the Great Forest: Titles traditionally belonging to one being, the overlord of the entire Underground. At times the titles have been separated (most notably that of Overlord of the Great Forest – the titles has been a matter of conflict between the Tree People/elves who feel that they have a right to self determination) but the Underground is never right unless there is one being – usually a member of the race of beings known as the Fey – holding all titles and thus holding this world together._

Claire shook her head and read the rambling paragraph again, trying to make sense of it. She then flicked to another page.

_Fey: most feared and most powerful race of intelligent beings of the Underground. They are not limited to the Underground, like other Underground races, and have long been involved in the affairs of the world known as Aboveground. _

Claire frowned. That didn't tell her much. She also had a feeling this book was written by someone who wasn't entirely impartial.

Claire started to return the book, then paused. She flicked it open again.

_Tree People/Elves: a race native to the Great Forest, a semi-independent realm situated at the base of the Skyless Mountain Range. _

She wrinkled her nose. Definitely not impartial.

"Who wrote this rubbish?" she muttered disapprovingly.

"My grandfather, actually." A faintly amused voice replied. Claire spun, peering off into the dark. A shadow detached and became a figure that sauntered into the light.

"Your Highness." Claire acknowledged stiffly.

"Doing some research? I'm impressed. Most people just charge off."

"I'm not so naive, sire, that I assume you'll have a nice path leading to and through the labyrinth. You don't strike me as a person who likes to let other people win. Tell me true, would I even get out the gate before I met some sort of _challenge_?" Claire's voice was calm, but her eyes flinty with irritation.

The Goblin King threw back his head and laughed.

"You're a perceptive girl. I wonder if it was always that way for you, or did that shot of power I gave you lift the fog that clouds most mortal's minds? I didn't come here to play mind games with you my dear, I came because I received an slightly hysterical message from my librarian telling me that you'd seen through the glamour I'd cast over this particular shelf. There are books here I don't particularly want people to read, and they're all here. Yet you found them." He regarded her with eyes narrowed in fascination. Claire looked away, uncomfortable.

"As for your question..." he waved his hand, and Claire found herself standing by the gate at the end of the drive that led up to the castle.

"Step through, if you would."

Claire looked at him suspiciously. She then gave a slight sigh, as if to say _oh what the hell_ and stepped through the gate. Only to find herself standing on the steps of the castle, 100 meters back from the gate.

She blinked in surprise. Even from this distance she could see a grin on the face of Jareth. He looked so much like the cat that got the cream, so pleased with himself that she couldn't help but burst out laughing.

Jareth appeared beside her.

"Very clever your highness, but very irritating after a while I imagine. Are you going to tell me how to get past, or are you just going to gloat?"

"Oh I'm sure you would have found an alternate exit, this castle has several. But since you asked..." he waved his hand.

"You'll be able to get out the gate now. It would hardly be fair to set you an absolutely impossible task."

"Hasn't anyone told you? Life isn't fair, anyone who tells you otherwise is selling something." She chuckled, as though enjoying a private joke, but there was a bitter twist to her smile. Jareth remembered he was talking to a girl who had been told she wouldn't live out her teenage years.

They both paused a moment, looking towards the forest that lay beyond the castle walls.

"Sire, I have a question, if I may..." she trailed off as the King turned to regard her with sharp eyes.

"Ask away. Whether I answer or not is another matter."

Claire took a deep breath, and shaped the fear that had been growing in her heart for the last few days into words.

"Well, let's just say I manage to find these Silver Gates or Doors or whatever. You promised to send me back to my family as though no time has passed, with them unaware that anything has happened." She looked at the Goblin King for confirmation. He continued to regard her with his unnerving, mismatched eyes.

"Well, if no time has passed, will I still have the...tumour?" The word was still difficult to say.

The Goblin King turned away abruptly and leaned against a pillar, still facing the forest.

"No. No, time will have passed for you, but not for them. Or worlds are not two parallel lines, and time does not constrain me – or this world – that way. Everything that has happened to you here will have happened. But if I return you, I will simply return you to the point in time I took you from. Time will continue from there as normal. I cannot play with time to a great extent, but that I can do. Time isn't a straight line, as such, it's more..." he struggled to explain in a way that this mortal child would comprehend.

"A big ball of timey wimey stuff?" suggested Claire, straight faced. Her lip twitched as the King turned and stared at her as if she were mad.

"Sorry, it's a quote." Her heart was singing. Free! She really was free to try! And if she returned home she would be cured, have a long life with her family in front of her!

"Indeed." He disappeared, startling Claire.

"I suppose I'll get used to that one day." She muttered, and ran back to the library to gather her things, ready to go. She didn't think she'd get far outside the castle today, but was determined to try anyway.

She flew along the corridors, her hair streaming, and she laughed in exhilaration. Free!

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Quotes: "Life isn't faire...anyone who tells you otherwise is selling something." The Princess Bride. Did you doubt for a moment that Claire was a fan?

"Big ball of timey wimey stuff." Doctor Who.

Read? Review!


	6. Chapter 6 Unexpected Occurrences

Hey everyone! Sorry this has taken me forever to update! Thanks again for all your reviews, they make this worth doing! I'll try to update more freqently in future, now that I've decided which way this is going it should be easier. Plese continue to tell me what you think, and constructive criticism/ corrections are always appreciated. And best wishes for a merry Christmas and a safe and happy new year! *usual disclaimers*

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Claire strolled around the quiet woods that surrounded the castle in high dudgeon. She knew now why the Goblin King had lifted the enchantment from the gate so willingly. There was an enchantment on the wood, it seemed, that caused Claire to find herself back at the castle gates or wall every time she walked away from the castle. It was very frustrating, even when she walked in as straight a line as she could, the castle always appeared before her. Sometimes she walked for hours, and was sure she'd escaped the enchantment, only to come face to face with it time and time again.

Not watching where she was going, Claire squeaked as she tripped over a tree root. She fell flat on her face into the soft, mossy ground.

"Are you alright?" an anxious voice asked, making Claire sit up with a start. Strong hands helped her up, and she shook hair out of her eyes to see a woman with creamy brown skin, short dark hair and unnaturally bright green eyes. She had the same slanted eyes as Hadrian, and she had a swirl of leaf-pattern around her eyes, as Hadrian did on his hands. A tree-woman.

"Thank you, I'm fine." She smiled tentatively, holding out a hand.

"My name is Claire."The woman shook it, her face breaking into a grin.

"Claire! I'm Rianla, my brother is Hadrian, he told me all about you. I'm surprised King Jareth is allowing you to wander like this; I thought you were his prisoner. Hadrian was quite anxious, I'm afraid he and the King had something of an argument about you and was practically kicked out of the castle. He was worried the King would take his anger out on you, have you thrown into an oubliette or something."

The woman spoke quickly, her eyes darting around as though wary of something. Claire barely noticed.

"Kicked out? On my account? Oh dear, and he was so kind to me too. His Highness told me he had to leave on family business." She paused, considering. The King hadn't forbidden her to speak of their deal, or stipulated whether or not she was allowed to ask for help on her challenge.

"His Highness and I had a deal, if I can find my way to – and through – the Labyrinth and find the Silver Gates, then he'll return me home as though no time has passed. Do you... I mean, would you have any advice for me?"

Rianla turned to stare at Claire.

"The Silver Gates? Claire, the King has set you an impossible mission. Very few even know where the Labyrinth lies. I'm not sure if it can be reached by such..._mundane_ means as walking."

"I'm sure there must be a way. I have a feeling that His Highness wouldn't take any pleasure in winning if there was no chance in losing. It wouldn't really be winning then, would it?"

Claire had thought a lot about the possibility of her mission being impossible. Perhaps she was clutching at straws, but she just _had_ to believe she could get home.

The tree-lady regarded Claire with interest.

"Very perceptive. People have spent years with the Goblin King and not seen him as clearly as you do."

Claire smiled. She finally noticed Rianla's nervous posture and the way her eyes darted around.

"I didn't expect to meet any of Hadrian's kin in these ridiculous woods. I had the impression your people lived many miles away." She gestured vaguely off to the south. Rianla looked at Claire, her brow furrowed, as though deciding whether or not to trust her.

"Look Claire, I'm actually on a reconnaissance mission. I'm scouting these woods. No offence but your presence here is something of a problem. I'm pretty sure Jareth is watching you fairly closely, and if he sees me here...well, it would not go well for my cause."

"Cause?" Claire asked. She was very curious about these people, but she didn't want to appear nosey. Even as a newcomer, and an isolated one at that, she knew of the tension between Jareth and these people.

Claire's mind worked quickly, considering. What if Hadrian's expulsion from the castle had led to some sort of political situation, or become the excuse for one? Rianla had said Hadrian feared Jareth might take his anger out on Claire, which meant the argument must have been significant, or that there were continuing ramifications from that argument.

"Has the uh..._argument_ between Hadrian and Ja – His Highness...has it created some sort of...situation?"

"Claire I can't tell you anything at the moment. Jareth has ways of finding things out and the fewer who know, the better. I don't believe that you would betray us, but neither do I expect you to keep our secrets, especially from one such as the Goblin King. But should all things go to plan there will be significant happenings between the Tree People and the Goblin King."

Claire gaped at Rianla, amazed at this turn of events, and how honest this woman was being with her.

"Claire, there may come a time when my people ask you to help us. I won't ask you to swear it now, or consider your word binding...but would you consider it?"

"Rianla, Hadrian saved my life. I owe nothing to the Goblin King; he kidnapped my brother, and then separated me from my family. When it comes to choosing sides, I will certainly do what I can for you." The passion with which Claire spoke surprised both women.

"Though, I don't know what help I could be." She trailed off doubtfully. She'd promised her help to this people, but the thought of being a spy in the King's household filled her with fear. She was certain the King's retaliation on such a betrayal would be swift and fatal. Rianla seemed to know what Claire was thinking.

"Never fear, I would never ask you to be our spy. We may never require your help, but thank you all the same." Again, Rianla peered around her anxiously into the gloom of the surrounding trees.

"It grows dark. I have lingered too long and it's unsafe for anyone to wander in these woods after dark. We both ought to leave."

Rianla clasped Claire's forearm in a gesture of alliance and farewell. She then leaped straight up onto the branch of a nearby tree and disappeared from view. The leaves didn't even twitch; she could have disappeared into thin air for all Claire could see.

Claire's thoughts whirled as she made her way aimlessly into the trees. She barely noticed as the castle rose up before her, nor the heightened activity in the castle yard. Only when she nearly collided with a footman lugging a trunk in the entrance hall did she realise that something was going on. Snagging a young, talkative maid, she asked what all the hubbub was over.

"His Highness, as ye know, was staying a hunting lodge with some of his relatives and friends, just a few miles yonder. Anyway there was a strange accident in the great hall there, some rugs and tapestries and rafters caught fire or something. No one was hurt, thank goodness, but they couldn't have the feast and ball as they'd planned. So his Highness went and invited them all here! Well! Trudie's in such a state and everything's in an uproar!" She giggled, clearly loving the excitement.

Claire laughed with the maid, and went with her to help make up beds in the guest's wing of the castle.

"Claire! Claire! Drat it, where is that girl?" Claire heard Trudie calling after about half an hour or so.

"What is it Tru...uh oh." Claire had a sudden, awful thought.

"You didn't see me, okay?" Claire whispered hurriedly to the still-giggling maid. She went to duck though the servant's door, but found herself stuck to the floor.

"Dammit Trudie! I hate it when you do that!" Claire yelled as she craned her head around to see Trudie walking in the door towards her.

"Well His Highness wants..."

"I don't care what His Highness wants, I'm not going to his stupid banquet! You know I hate them!" Claire tried to wrench her feet off the ground, knowing full well it was useless.

The last two banquets the King had held, Claire had escaped them by pleading a headache. Trudie reluctantly allowed her to hide in her room for them, but was determined that her young charge would go to the next. As soon as Claire had heard Trudie looking for her, she knew what Trudie wanted.

"His Highness demands it. Now are you going to go to your room and get into the gown I've left there, or am I going to summon His Highness and you can tell him..."

"Alright alright I'll go!" Claire agreed, sounding panicked. Seeing the genuine fear on the young girl's face, Trudie felt momentarily guilty for such threats. But a footman running in and demanding her attention replaced her remorse with distraction. With a flick of her fingers, Claire was released from the foot-sticking charm and Trudie was gone.

"Sorry Meg, I'd better go and get ready." Claire apologised to her new friend, and sprinted off to her room.

The gown waiting there was - thankfully – a simple one: green, with a square neckline. It was low waisted with a fitted bodice and a flowing skirt. The sleeves were close fitting down to her wrists. It was free from embroidery and any adornment apart from pale gold ribbon at the wrists, collar and waist. Claire slid into it quickly, stuffed her hair into a gold net so that it settled at the base of her neck, and left the simple jewels Trudie left for her on the dresser.

Glancing back, she noticed a pendant different to the ones normally left by her well-meaning housekeeper. It had a very fine gold chain, and a small emerald jewel hanging from it. Upon closer inspection, she saw it had been carved to resemble a leaf, with gold wire as the leaf's veins.

Thinking of the strange day she had, Claire laughed at the irony of it. She fastened it around her neck as an act of defiance against her gaoler, and then hurried to the Great Hall.

As a non-royal, only one of the doors was opened for her, and the wave of noise that greeted Claire made her sigh in relief. No one would be watching as she entered the room, they were clearly already enjoying themselves far too much to pay any attention to her.

"Where am I seated?" She whispered to the footman, and he pointed to a seat at the front of the room, just below the dais where she could see Jareth seated. _Blast_, Claire thought. That meant she wouldn't be able to sneak around the side as she's hoped, she'd have to make her way to the front, curtsy at the throne, then make her way to her seat. As she walked slowly up the walkway, she was wondering how soon she'd be able to sneak away without getting into trouble.

When she reached the front of the room, she waited for the footman to call her name. She could barely hear him over the noise.

"_Lady Claire."_

That was all they ever said of her, and since no one was paying her much attention, she completely over did the curtsy for her own amusement, swirling her skirt around and inclining her head as she's seen women in period dramas do.

Claire went to turn away and find her seat, when there was a flash of light. Everyone looked up, and for a moment there was silence. Claire turned, a beat after everyone else, but only caught a glimpse of a masked figure reaching two strong arms towards her. Instinctively, she turned and went to run, but the arms surrounded her, pulling her back against this intruder's chest, her arms pinned to her sides.

Her eyes found the King's, who now stood, his expression thunderous. Everyone else was staring at her and whoever held her, shocked. The King reached out an arm, his gloved hand shining with power, and a jet of light sped towards them.

All this took only a moment. Then everything was gone.

Claire could feel air rushing past them, as though she was travelling at great speed though a black tunnel. She could still feel the arms, holding her tightly.

All at once, she rushing ceased, and Claire and her captor stumbled slightly.

They were in a clearing in a forest, lit by a lamp being held be another cloaked and masked figure. Claire wrenched herself away from whoever held her.

"What the hell is going on?" She gasped, frightened and angry. She looked at her captor, who was pulling his mask off. A familiar face, grinning, appeared.

"Claire! We meet again. Though not, I confess, in a manner that I had expected."

Claire gasped.

It was Hadrian.

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Read? Review! Merry Christmas all!


	7. Chapter 7 Rebellion

Hey everyone, hope you all had a great Christmas and New Year! I wanted to get this done now, since I'm going abroad for a couple of weeks. Hope you all enjoy this, let me know what you think and, as usual, and comments and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. _*Disclaimer a la usual*_

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Claire turned, a beat after everyone else, but only caught a glimpse of a masked figure reaching two strong arms towards her. Instinctively, she turned and went to run, but the arms surrounded her, pulling her back against this intruder's chest...

_...The King reached out an arm, his gloved hand shining with power, and a jet of light sped towards them._

_All this took only a moment. Then everything was gone. _

_...They were in a clearing in a forest, lit by a lamp being held be another cloaked and masked figure. Claire wrenched herself away from whoever held her._

"_What the hell is going on?" She gasped, frightened and angry. She looked at her captor, who was pulling his mask off. A familiar face, grinning, appeared._

"_Claire! We meet again. Though not, I confess, in a manner that I had expected."_

_Claire gasped. _

_It was Hadrian. _

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"You just did _what_? He's going to kill me! Literally!"

"Calm down Claire! We've worked it all out so that you're blameless in all this. But you did say you'd help us, didn't you? Didn't you want to get away from Jareth?" Rianla, after stripping off her mask and putting her lamp down, was trying to speak soothingly to a hysterical Claire.

Her reasoning didn't achieve much, Claire's eyes were wide and frightened, her fists clenched and her breathing shallow and fast. Hadrian grabbed Claire's upper arms, firmly but gently, and forced her to look at him.

"Claire, we can protect you. Jareth can't find you here. And even if he could...no, look at me, take a deep breath...you're blameless. Don't you see? You tried to run from me, Jareth saw that! And you honestly knew nothing about what was about to happen. Jareth can see, or smell, or sense lies in people. He would have seen the truth in your fear and confusion."

"But...why?" Claire looked a bit calmer now, and Hadrian released her arms.

"We needed to create an incident, so that he'd be forced to take action against our people. We now both have the excuse we needed to begin our rebellion, to gain our freedom from his rule. Snatching Jareth's prisoner - or pet, I'm really not sure what he thinks of you as – is an act of disrespect, dishonour and treason. And to do it in front of his royal court..." Hadrian chuckled.

"Ooh, he'll be angry." Claire murmured, her eyes wide.

At that moment, a peal of thunder rolled over the forest. It was unnaturally loud, and felt close somehow. The three froze momentarily. A strange whistling noise began, quiet at first, then increasing in volume.

"What's that?" Shouted Claire over the noise.

"Wind, a great gale. We can't feel it down here beneath the trees, but look!" Hadrian picked up the lantern so that the light shone upwards. The branches above them rocked slightly. The trees were huge and old. For the bottom branches to be affected meant the storm was strong indeed.

"Come on, let's get you to The Fort, you'll be safe there, we can continue to discuss this there."

Hadrian and Rianla exchanged a glance. Hadrian grabbed Claire's wrist and the three began walking briskly out of the clearing.

"We'd better get you to the outpost. We'll continue to talk there.

_A strange image flashed before Claire's eyes. A figure in black stood with his back to her. He stood near the edge of a cliff, looking down on a great forest. Clouds swirled around them, and they pulsed with strange light and flickers of lightning. He turned to face Claire, and she gasped. Jareth. But not as she'd seen him. His hair was wild and his clothes strange, otherworldly. And his expression was filled with inhuman rage. His mismatched eyes were catlike, feral. His lips drew back in a snarl to reveal slightly pointed teeth. Reaching a gloved hand towards her, a bolt of light flashed towards her, and she felt her necklace shatter. All this took only a moment._

Claire gasped, and stumbled. Hadrian turned quickly, steadying her.

"Sorry! But we've got to get out of here, this storm isn't natural." Hadrian thought he'd pulled her over, he hadn't noticed anything strange. Unsure of what to make of this strange vision, Claire continued after him.

In a few moments they arrived in another clearing, where more masked tree-people waited nervously with horses.

"You got her! Welcome Lady!" A voice, young and male exclaimed. In the half light Claire couldn't tell who spoke. The clearing was suddenly a flurry with action, as the horses were readied and people crowded around Hadrian and Rianla to ask how things went. Before Claire knew it, she was seated behind someone on a horse and they cantered slowly through the forest. Clinging fearfully to her riding partner, Claire thought about her strange vision.

Was it an echo of her own fears, or did Jareth really hold some power over her mind? Then there was the necklace. It was strange that it had appeared on her dressing table just then. Claire doubted now that Trudie had left it for her to wear. It was too different to the other jewellery, and Trudie was too loyal to the King to want anyone wearing a symbol of the tree-people.

Was it a message from the tree-people? Claire suspected that they had spies within Jareth's court; maybe Rianla had got a message to them somehow, asking them to leave it for Claire to wear. But why jeopardise the secrecy of the plot with such an obvious symbol of the tree-people?

If it wasn't the tree-people, maybe Jareth had left it, as a subtle way of telling her that he knew of her treachery. If so, why not confront her immediately? Maybe he _did_ have power over her mind, and wanted to use her as a way of finding out the tree-people's plots. But if so, why leave the necklace? Wouldn't he want her to have no idea that he knew?

Claire's thoughts spun in circles, never coming to a satisfactory conclusion. She would have ripped it off her necklace then and there if she dared loose her hold around her riding partner.

Around her, the trees were thinning and the strange storm becoming quieter. The ground began to rise and the riders were soon riding up the skirts of a mountain. Claire looked up, and couldn't see the top in the darkness. They must be nearing the Skyless Mountains.

* * *

Later, when Claire had untangled herself from the horse, she and her new companions sat in a large hall in what Hadrian called the Eastern Outpost. It consisted of a large outer wall, an inner wall, soldier's barracks, offices and the mess hall that they now sat in. Servants handed around mugs of a hot, strong drink that Claire didn't know the name for, but it warmed her considerably. It was cold here, at the foot of the mountain.

"But why did you all want to start this incident? I know it's not about me, but the thought that a war seems to be starting because of me is rather..." she paused, the word _war _having left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"...unpleasant."

"The Elves of the Great Forest have been under the rule of the Fey since Jareth's grandfather took the throne. He invaded the forest and killed many of its people just so he could say he ruled all the Underground, as his ancestors did eons ago." The one who spoke was the one who'd welcomed Claire in the forest and ridden with her to the Fortress. He was clearly the youngest of the group, and his eyes shone with eagerness.

"Since then, we have been treated as a second rate people, with fewer rights and ridiculous taxes. Jareth's father tried to make peace with us, while still maintaining his over-lordship. But Jareth sees us the same way as he sees anyone who isn't fey: second class. For five hundred years we've suffered under the fey, but now we're going to take back what is ours. Jareth did the king's son an incredible wrong when he expelled him from the castle. Now we don't even have a voice in his court. We won't stand for it anymore."

Claire's face remained calm and interested – she'd read in books that this was the attitude all courtiers ought to perfect when engaged in delicate matters – but her mind spun.

Five hundred years? How old did that make Jareth? She'd also noticed that these people always referred to the Goblin King in that way, never as "his highness" or "the king," perhaps as a subtle rebellion against his rule. They had they own king apparently, a figurehead for the people. And apparently Hadrian was his son. Did that make Rianla and Hadrian prince and princess? Which one was the heir?

Years of reading about politics, conspiracy and history, as well as a sharp mind prevented Claire from voicing any of these thoughts. She didn't want to appear too interested or involved in this situation.

"My cousin speaks the truth. Claire, we are sorry to have put you in this position, but you must see that it was only a matter of time before something triggered this situation." Hadrian's voice was earnest, and he leaned towards Claire as though willing her to understand.

"And neither of us liked the idea of you being Jareth's prisoner. He's not to be trusted." Rianla added from her position beside the fire. She stared into its depths, and Claire was struck by her powerful presence. She'd bet anything that Rianla was the heir, and that this had all been her idea. Hadrian was in it as a soldier, for his people, and for Claire. The others were in it also as soldiers, and for their people. But Rianla had much more at stake. If this uprising failed, Claire was certain that the royal family would be eliminated.

"You're right, and I thank you for getting me out of there. But, what am I to do now?" Claire didn't dare ask about any military plans, she knew they would be highly secret, and it would embarrass her hosts to have to refuse to tell her.

"You're safest here for now. Jareth has spies at our King's court, and his power lessens the further East he goes into our kingdom. This is the most Eastern army outpost, which is why we brought you here. Right now, a messenger is riding for Jareth's court, which has probably relocated to the Castle Beyond the Goblin City. It's traditionally used as a base in wartime. It's also very far west of here, which means our power is lessened there, away from the forests. The message states our reasons for kidnapping you and voicing our displeasure at his rule. It also declares our father to be High King of the Great Forest and declares that we no longer recognise his authority." Rianla turned from the fire, and took a seat.

"Unfortunately, there's not much for you to do here, and we'll have to ask you to put off your quest to get to the Labyrinth and the Silver Doors for the time being. Hopefully we shan't be here too long, we're fairly confident in our strategies and powers." She grinned around at her friends, who also grinned, and slapped each other's shoulders.

Claire looked down. _Great, more delays._ She was beginning to doubt that she'd ever get home. But somehow that thought didn't fill her with as much horror as it once had.

* * *

Later that night Claire lay in the small bed in a room off one of the clerk's offices they'd given her. She was at that place between waking and sleep, and her thoughts drifted.

_She was splendidly dressed, her hair curled and strung with jewels. Her ornate gown shimmered with an ethereal glow. Delicate chains twined up her wrists and arms. She felt beautiful, graceful. She was in a crowded room, and the realisation that these people were of the fey didn't fill her with fear. She felt calm, and happy. She people around her moved slowly, and gracefully. They stopped moving, and Claire knew they were listening to someone speak. She couldn't see over the tall people, and the room was filled with a dim, hazy kind of light. Suddenly, the people around Claire moved away from her, staring at her with accusing eyes. A path formed in the people, allowing Claire to see the speaker. It was Jareth. He stared at her without expression. Tension cracked, as Claire began to fill with fear. No one moved._

_Jareth's arm slowly rose. A delicate chain twirled around his fingers. He turned his palm towards her, and Claire saw that he held her leaf necklace, the pendant shining vivid green against his leather gloved hand. His fingers closed around it, and the light shone on between his fingers. His muscles contracted suddenly, and the light was extinguished. The simple action filled Claire with an inexplicable horror. Her panic broke, and she turned to flee, shoving her way amongst the people. _

_Out of the room she ran, up some stairs. This place was unfamiliar, its walls bare, the air dank. Her dress caught and tore on sharp corners, and her hair tangled. She tried to rip the delicate chains from her arms, but they clung on, suddenly heavy. _

_Claire found herself outside...or was it? There were no walls, but she couldn't see the sky either. Great pillars rose around her, and she ran on. She came to a rail-less balcony. Beyond it lay...nothing._

_She froze, somehow knowing that Jareth stood behind her. She turned slowly, and he stood, exactly as he had before, holding his closed fist up. She realised suddenly that the chain twined around her necklace was connected with the chains that twined up her arms. Jareth continued to stare at her with that terrifyingly empty expression. The chains connecting them began to shorten, pulling Claire towards him. Claire gasped and struggled, but they cut into her arms. In desperation, Claire turned to the balcony, into the nothingness beyond. She jumped._

"Claire!"

_

* * *

_

OMG! Cliffhanger! How much of Claire's vision is real? Remember people, reviews make my day and make me write faster! Thanks for reading and have a nice day :)


	8. Chapter 8 A Bird in the Hand

Hey people! Thanks again for your reviews, they make my day :) Hope you enjoy this next installment. As always, please tell me your thoughts, if you notice any mistakes, any constructive criticism etc. *usual disclaimers*

* * *

"Claire!"

Claire's eyes flew open and her eyes darted around the room in confusion, her chest heaving and her brow shining in sweat. She wrenched her arms and legs free from her chains – no, blankets – and clutched at her head.

"Claire! Are you alive in there? I need to talk to you, quickly!"

Now she remembered: she was with the tree-people.

"Yes – yes I'm okay. Come in!" She called back, still rather confused. Images of the goblin king, a surreal castle and a nameless fear swirled in her head.

Rianla burst in the door, followed by the cousin Claire had been riding pillion with. She had found out a few hours ago that he was named Stefan. Rianla looked nearly as flustered as Claire felt. She was wearing a nightgown with a leather coat over the top, and her feet stuffed into riding boots with the side laces undone. Stefan was wearing chain mail and a green tunic, his helmet under one arm. His face shone and his hair was mussed.

"Claire, the night-watch has just returned. They saw two lots of enemy scouts in the immediate area. Jareth must know you're here. We've decided to get you out of here, hopefully before he realises. Here, we've brought you some clothes. I'm sorry but we can't spare many soldiers, but you'll probably draw less attention with a smaller guard anyway. Hadrian has to go to the capital anyway, and he wants you to go there. I must say I think that's a good idea too. "

Pausing to draw breath, she rounded on Stefan.

"Stefan, the king wants you back within the week so I may as well send you back now too. Though I do hate to lose you two, I expect you back here within a fortnight, and Hadrian within the month. Claire, get dressed and we'll meet you by the great hall."

Claire gaped at the other woman as she rushed out of the room, and Stefan shot her an apologetic look, before following his commander.

A breeze blew the door shut, startling Claire out of her stunned silence. She climbed into the soft brown breeches and olive green shirt she' been left, then pulled on the riding boots. The breeches were too long, but she tucked them into her boots, which fitted well. The shirt was also a little large, but she didn't mind. Claire fancied they'd be easier to ride in than the gown she'd arrived in, which now sat – slightly the worse for wear – over the back of a chair.

Glancing over at the dress, something caught her eye out the window set into the wall above it. A large white owl sat on the palisade that ran around the fort. She smiled briefly, affected by its calm demeanour. It sat perfectly still, and it seemed to glow in its whiteness.

Reluctantly, Claire grabbed the cloak she'd been left, tossed it over her shoulder, and went to find Rianla. Would she never be allowed to settle?

Her boots made little noise on the packed dirt. Rianla, Hadrian and Stefan stood in the shadow of the great hall, softly arguing. Unable to resist, Claire slowed and walked even softer.

"..._fey_ warriors I tell you, none of those goblin soldiers he usually sends. If he's mobilising the fey army, we'll have to recalculate."

"Stop trying to tell me how to run this campaign, cousin. But what on earth did he send them here for? Why not the capital? How could he possibly know we were planning on being based here? Did the girl..?"

"She couldn't have. But maybe they were looking for her?

"...can't be serious. You don't really think Jareth thinks this is all about her?"

"Of course not, he'd be a fool not to realise that this has been brewing for years. And Jareth is no fool. But you know what he's like when told he can't have something, even when he had no interest in it before. I think he may try to get Claire back, just for the sake of it."

"Or maybe he sees that she's something of a weakness to you, cousin."

Claire couldn't tell who spoke to whom, their voices being hushed and strained. But she'd heard more than enough. She scuffed her foot against the ground – not loudly, but she knew the sharp ears of the tree-people would hear – and walked briskly towards them.

"Claire, excellent. You'll ride with Stefan again. Here, bring Lord Stefan's horse! You're both small enough, and the horse strong enough...what's that? Oh, alright, I'm coming! Farewell Claire, Godspeed."

"And you, Rianla." Claire replied, as they clasped forearms. Rianla hurried away, and Claire watched her sadly. She had an odd feeling that they wouldn't meet again for some time, and that their next meeting would be in rather different circumstances.

"First things first when we reach Emrald –you're learning to ride." Hadrian told Claire with a smile as he lifted her up behind Stefan.

"Emrald?" Claire asked, clutching Stefan's waist again.

"I suppose you'd call it the realm's capital city, as much of one as we have anyway. Named for the 'emerald green of the leaves and water.'" Hadrian replied as he shoved on his helmet and mounted a fine chestnut gelding. He wrinkled his nose as he quoted, making his opinion of the frivolous name clear. Claire laughed, then clutched Stefan tighter as they took off into the night.

* * *

Several hours later, when the sun was just lighting up the forest around them, the group stopped. Claire, who had been dozing, found herself being liften down from the saddle.

"We'll rest here a while. We're going at an easy pace, but I want the horses well rested in case we run into any trouble." Stefan informed her.

"That, and I think it's about breakfast time." Amended Hadrian cheerfully.

The two set about cooking tomato and bacon over a small fire after taking care of the horses.

Meanwhile, Claire went a little way off and lay down with her head on a soft patch of grass over some tree roots. Sleepily, she listened to Stefan and Hadrian banter as they worked, and to the chattering of a group of sparrows in a nearby bush.

One flew to a branch just above her head, and chattered to her, tilting his head this way and that, and hopping about.

Claire smiled, half asleep. More birds joined the first, chatting amongst themselves about the weather, places of potential food, how grateful they were that these noisy newcomers had scared away a feral cat, wondered what the three fey warriors hiding amongst the boulders were up to...

"Claire, come and eat!"

Claire sat up, and the birds flew a short way off. Claire wondered at the odd dream she'd had, about them talking, and then joined her guardians. When they'd eaten and the horses were rested, they continued.

"We're making excellent time; we should make it to Emrald by nightfall." Stefan told Claire over his shoulder. Hadrian pulled his horse back so that he was level with Claire.

"How are you faring after all this excitement? Tell us if you need a break, if you think you're going to fall off or something." Claire replied that she was fine, and then asked about their journey.

"Well, we'll be leaving this nice flat, open forest in a moment. The ground will become rocky and uneven; we may have to walk a bit."

"Well that's okay too." Claire muttered, shifting slightly. She wasn't used to riding, and her sit-upon was beginning to protest. Stefan chuckled.

"With all due respect for your bravery and sacrifice Lady, you do have a terrible seat on a horse!"

"Yes well riding wasn't a part of my school's curriculum, as odd as that may seem. Oh, what's that?"

A shape rose from the trees, casting an ominous shadow. It was a hill, covered in enormous granite boulders. Claire remembered her dream uneasily.

"Melvill's Hill of Caves. An elvish renegade used to hide out here for years and wasn't caught. You could explore the rocks for months and never learn all their secrets. It's like a maze up there. There's a river on one side, and a particularly nasty patch of trees on the other. We won't be going through the trees – I detest giant spiders – and I don't know if the horses can make it over the boulders...shall we find a ford for the river Hadrian?"

"No, I'm sure the horses will be fine, I used to play here as a child, so I know some good paths."

They approached Melvill's Hill, Claire growing moreanxious by the second. They passed another tree that was alive with sparrows, and Claire listened – really listened – to their calls. With a shock, she realised she _could_ understand them.

Hi there two-legger! One called. You don't seem as dumb as most of your kind. Watch out for the two warriors hiding in the rocks. They look like crows waiting to steal your nestlings!

"I think we should stop!" Claire said suddenly, her face breaking out in a sweat. Either she was going mad, or she could suddenly understand the speech of birds. Somehow, it didn't seem as ridiculous as it once had. Maybe when The Goblin King had blasted the tumour and given her the ability to see through magical illusions he had also unwittingly given her the ability to understand birds?

"What's wrong Claire?" Hadrian asked, concerned at her sudden change. They stopped, but remained mounted.

"This may sound crazy, but..." she began. She paused, looking at the birds, and again caught snatches of conversation. She told the two tree-people what she'd heard, and her suspicions about the Goblin King's magic. To her surprise, they didn't look as surprised or incredulous as she thought they would. They simply turned and cantered away from Melvill's Hill, meeting and following the river.

After a while they stopped, and Claire waited for them to explain.

"The Goblin King has a strange affinity with birds, more so than the rest of the fey." Hadrian told her gravely as he lifted her down.

"It's surprising, but not unbelievable that you should have gained these two abilities from that blast of power he gave you."

"These two very _useful_ abilities." Said Stefan, his eyes shining.

"Think of the possibilities!"

"Indeed." Replied Hadrian, but looked far more reluctant than Stefan.

"Come on! You know how useful she could be! If we had someone who could see through Jareth's illusions then the Third Company would be alive right now. She has as much against the king as we do, don't you think she deserves the chance to be involved in the fight against him..?"

"Oh don't give me that! You care nothing for her right to revenge, only for your glory as a soldier and a prince of the realm." Hadrian replied darkly.

"Um, I'm still here." Claire said tentatively. But the two continued to argue; now about politics that Claire didn't understand. She walked a little way off into a clearing to get away from the sound of their bickering. When they'd settled down she'd go back and tell them that taking part in a war –especially going into battle, which is what it sounded like Stefan wanted her to do – wasn't something she'd thought about. And since she was not an elf (or tree person, she kept meaning to ask which they preferred) she was under no obligation. She might even remind them that she was only with them because they'd kidnapped her, which should make at least Hadrian guilty for a few minutes...

Satisfied with her plan, and knowing it would do no good to go back and yell as she very much wanted to, she looked around at the little clearing. She could still hear the river gurgling and the trees around her curved in, turning the space into a sort of grotto. Looking around, Claire noticed a white owl in the branches, half hidden from her view. She regarded it for a while, and it her. She looked away to sit down, and when she looked up again it was gone.

"I'm beginning to have a very bad feeling about this..." she muttered, standing up slowly. Closing her eyes, she turned slowly towards the path she'd arrived by, her heartbeat increasing, her palms sweating.

At last she opened them, and a little whimper of fear and surrender escaped her.

There he stood, as he'd appeared in her visions: wild, powerful, furious, and certainly not human.

Jareth smiled sarcastically at her, revealing slightly pointed teeth, and held out a leather-gloved hand.

"Hello my dear. I've come to rescue you. Whether you want me to or not, actually."

* * *

Yahoo, Jareth's back! Hope you enjoyed, hopefully I'll update again soon. Have a nice day!


	9. Chapter 9 Power and Chaos

Hey everyone! Thanks for your reviews, I really appreciate them. Hope you enjoy this next chapter, it took me ages to decide where I was going with this. Once again I don't own Labyrinth, just a few OC's and storylines. Enjoy!

* * *

Claire regarded the hand of the goblin king, trying to calm her rapid pulse and her spinning thoughts. The silence stretched on. Where were Hadrian and Stefan? Why didn't the goblin king just grab her?

Claire's eyes flicked up to Jareth's face. He looked calm...too calm? She saw a muscle working in his jaw, as though he was grinding his teeth. Suddenly a thought struck Claire.

"No thank you, I don't think I will." She struggled to keep her voice calm and even, but she couldn't help tensing when the king's eyes darkened and his hand clenched into a fist.

She was right then! He couldn't take her against her will, and had tried to trick her into just going along like a lamb to the slaughter. Triumph welled in her heart, and for the first time Claire actually felt confident.

Then his face smoothed and he laughed mockingly, an attitude which was, if possible, even more frightening. He was so unpredictable.

"Claire, Claire, Claire, my poor girl. Have those tree-hugging fools led you to believe they'll protect you? That you'll be an invaluable asset to their _cause? _Sweetheart, they've used you and they'll forget you as soon as any action begins." He regarded her sadly, as though he felt sorry for her, and disapproved of how the elves had treated her.

"And, Sweetheart, I'm not the one you should be afraid of. This is a world of world is dangerous..." the sound of his words were twisted off, and a great roaring filled her ears. Suddenly Claire stood on the cliff again, the same cliff from her earlier visions. Now, the forest swirled below her, the greens and browns turning purple and grey and swallowing everything around them into a horrible vision of chaos. Voices, if they could be called voices, screamed and howled inside her head. She stood frozen in horror upon that precipice. Was it years, or merely moments? As far as her eyes could see (and she could see for miles) everything was consumed. Only when the very ground beneath her feet began to dissolve did Claire snap out of her frozen terror.

"Get out of my head, Goblin King!" She screamed, clapping her hands over hear ears, shutting her eyes and flinging herself away from the surreal anarchy.

Silence.

She opened her eyes to find herself kneeling at Jareth's feet. He smirked down at her.

Blood boiling, Claire stood slowly, trying to control herself. It would do no good to scream at this man – if he could be called a man – who seemed to thrive when people around him lost control.

"I will not go with you, Goblin King. Just leave me alone. You don't care anything about me, I'm sick of being a...an _object_ in your games with the tree people. So don't give me all that bull about protecting me from this insane place. You have no power to take me from this place, and I _will not go willingly._ Maybe I would side with the tree people if I had the chance again, but you seem to have done something to Hadrian." Jareth snarled slightly at the casual way in which she spoke his rival's name.

"So I intend to continue alone. To find this dammed Labyrith and get home." Claire decided all this on the spot, her mouth running away with her. She'd almost forgotten their strange bargain until that moment, and she hadn't thought of her former home what seemed like days.

The goblin king regarded her calmly. Claire tried to meet his eyes, but diverted her gaze after just a few moments. His eyes contained...too much. Too much _what_, exactly, Claire couldn't explain even too herself. But his gaze was intoxicating.

"Very well, your challenge continues. But, Sweetheart -" the way he said the endearment this time was mocking, not caressing as the other times he'd used it.

"You're very wrong."

Claire blinked and he was gone.

* * *

Claire stood for a few moments, considering their conversation. One question nagged at her. What was she wrong about?

A bird chirped near her head, and she looked up at him enquiringly.

The owl-man has gone, he remarked. So are your friends with the horses.

"Do you know where they went?" Claire asked.

The small bird twittered at her. No, they are just gone. But you can't stand there all day; you must feed, and find a place to nest. The bird regarded her. You're too big for my home, or I'd offer to share.

"Thank you for the offer, but I don't think I'd be very good at sleeping in a tree anyway."

Then where do you sleep? The hunters will get you if you sleep on the ground. There's feral cats, and big spiders, and foxes... the bird hopped around anxiously.

"To be honest, I really don't know what I'm going to do. I haven't had much experience living in the woods. Do you know if there are any towns nearby?

No, the bird replied. But the birds will help you. Shall I show you where to find some nice seeds?

"Thank you for the offer, but I don't really eat seeds. Besides, I'm sure you need all you can get. Thanks for your help."

The bird replied that it was no trouble, and went about its business.

Claire ran back to where she left Hadrian and Stefan, but there was no sign of them. She hadn't really expected to find them, but she had to check anyway. Claire was about to turn away when she noticed a saddlebag lying by a rock. It looked similar to the ones Stefan had packed for them. Cautiously Claire picked it up and rummaged through it. It contained a cloak, a skin of water, a coil of thin rope, a small dagger ("I really must learn how to use this and how to defend myself," Claire muttered to herself. "I suppose I can use it to slice cheese or something until then.") and several coins. Smiling, Claire slung it over her shoulder and began walking.

She felt oddly buoyant, pleased with herself. She had, for the first time since arriving here, stood up for herself and made a decision. She now had no idea where she was going, or what she'd do, but she was free and independent at last. She knew that she'd soon feel lost and alone, but decided to embrace her happiness while it lasted.

She made her way back to Melvill's Hill of Caves, and clambered over it. It took longer than it ought, she got lost in amongst the maze of rocks a few times, but at last she made it over and onto flat ground again.

On the other side, the forest landscape changed again. The trees were tall and thick, clearly very old. They were spaced very far apart, but far above her head the branches wove to form a canopy or roof and the ground was covered in soft grass and moss, muffling the sound of Claire's boots. The light that filtered through was dark green. This part of the forest felt old and still. Claire sighed, finding deep calm. She glanced behind her, at the Hill. To one side of it lay a tangle of brambles – she was sure this must be where the spiders lurked. On the other she saw a curve of the river, before it disappeared quietly underground. There was nothing for her back there, but Claire hesitated to shatter the silence and watchfulness of the forest ahead.

Claire walked for nearly half an hour and the landscape changed little. If became darker, but not more sinister. Claire somehow knew that anyone with evil in their hearts would not be tolerated here. Suddenly, Claire came to a small forest pool. The trees around it were small and curved over, as though gazing at their reflections or searching for some lost treasure. Claire knelt over it, spellbound by the perfect mirror the water made.

Her gaze fell upon her own reflection, and she considered what she found with interest.

The girl who gazed back looked...different. Different to the girl she'd been back Aboveground. She wondered if her family would recognise her. Her hair was vibrant and her eyes clear, a vast change from the sickly, pale creature she'd been there. And here eyes – had they changed colour? Were those...flecks of _yellow? _She wore the shirt and breeches she'd been given as if she'd been born to them. Surprised, Claire realised she was comfortable in this world. She was thriving.

Suddenly, Claire realised she wasn't alone. A shape had appeared on the other side of the pool. Looking up, Claire stood slowly, carefully, keeping eye contact with the creature.

It was an elk, a great elk. It towered above Claire and wore its antlers like a crown. It's head was high, proud, and it met her eyes with a fiercely intelligent and grave gaze.

Claire bowed her head slowly to this magnificent being.

After an eternity, the elk slowly lowered his head in return, and Claire realised she'd been holding her breath, releasing it slowly, afraid to make any sudden movements that would break the enchantment.

This was no ordinary elk, she knew. She'd felt its power since she first stepped into this part of the forest. It felt as old as the earth and wise as a god. Its power was deeper, more subtle, and more enduring than Jareth's.

How, Claire wondered, could Jareth claim overlordship to this world? The elves, this king of beasts, whatever else the Underground was home to...they were just as majestic in their own ways as the Goblin King in all his chaotic power.

The great elk turned and walked slowly away into the darkness, leaving Claire shaken but exhilarated.

She journeyed on.


	10. Chapter 10  Deadly Music

Sorry this took so long for me to write, I hope you all enjoy it though. It's a bit different and hopefully is action-filled as well as develops some charaters. Thanks again to everyone who reviewed, and as always please tell me if you spot any errors or have any feedback for me. Cheers!

* * *

Claire walked on, and as she did the air grew less heavy and the light brighter. This ought to have cheered her, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. Claire's logical frame of mind returned and she began to see the situation in a much more down-to-earth way.

"Wandering in some crazy forest, who knows what else is around in here. I've little food, few clothes, I've run away from home and I've no idea where I'm going..." she muttered.

"Well, not run away, I _was _kind of kidnapped...but then he did offer to take me home...wait, since when is his castle my home?" Claire muttered to herself, growing more agitated as she did so.

Such was her distraction that she didn't even notice a great, still lake looming up on her left. Nor did she notice two young women picnicking on a rock.

"Greetings traveller!" What brings you to this part of the forest? We get to meet too few strangers here." One called, causing Claire to stop dead in her tracks.

"Indeed, to few, too few." The other sighed.

They had to be twins. Their faces and bodies, right down to their blue hair and green fingernails, were identical. Their garments were the only difference: the first speaker's was a deep black dress with a green trim, the second had a purple trim. Claire had never seen any elves like these. But then, she hadn't met many elves, and most of ones she had seen were warriors: cold and professional. Perhaps there were different elf tribes throughout the Great Forest?

"Hello. Um, I'm kind of lost. I suppose I'm heading towards Emrald, do you know it?" Claire asked.

"Emrald? Oh, what a bore. You're heading in the right direction, it's another few day's walk hence." Purple waved a careless arm in the direction Claire had been walking.

Good, so she hadn't wandered from the right bearing.

"But come, sit with us a while, and tell us of the outside world. I would guess you are a stranger in these parts? Would you like some food? Ah, the day is so lovely and the lake so calm and clear. Won't you take a swim with us?" As Green spoke, the girls moved apart, so Claire felt obliged to sit between them on their rock.

"A swim? Uh...no, I don't think so. I'm not that good at swimming."

The two laughed as though at some private joke. Their teeth were white and sharp, and suddenly Claire wanted nothing more than to get away from these two creatures.

"Oh please? It will be such fun. There are too few travellers in these parts. Too few, too few." They crooned, and Claire felt Purple run her fingers through her hair.

"No really, I must be off. I have a long way to travel..."

"We really must insist, you'll enjoy it so much more than going to boring..."

"...dull..."

"...tedious..."

"...Emrald. Come, come." They crooned in their musical voices. Green held Claire's hand and ran her other hand up her arm. Her touch was light, but felt poisonous. Claire felt hands all over her, touching, caressing. Purple ran her fingers up Claire's neck, over her cheeks, and then flicked her tongue lightly over Claire's lips.

Claire stood up, the women with her. She was terrified of angering these two harpies - or sirens, or whatever they were - by speaking angrily or moving suddenly.

"I really must go." She said firmly. They couldn't do anything until they'd enticed her to the water, if the stories Claire had read about these creatures were true.

She struggled to keep a clear head, but she had trouble simply lifting her feet. The creatures twined around her like cats, forcing her gently but inexorably towards the water.

As the ground became muddy and the lake's tiny wavelets lapped just a few feet away, terror overcame her. Claire began to wrench her arms free and struggle from their deadly embrace. They simply laughed and dug their nails into her flesh, making Claire cry out in pain.

"Sweet girl, we just want to play!" They soothed, and began to sing.

It was like nothing Claire had ever heard. She stopped moving immediately, afraid to miss a single beat of the otherworldly music.

Chimes and flutes and soaring notes swelled in their air, so powerful and so devastatingly lovely that Claire had to close her eyes. The voices moved away, grew fainter, and Claire turned instinctively to follow.

_She saw mountains, and snow, and deserts, and rainforests. _

_Water flowed around her, above her, through her. She soared around the planets – and they around her. _

_She saw spirits dancing amongst millions of tiny suns, their insubstantial feet kicking up sparking stardust that swirled brilliantly and formed new worlds._

_She stood in the sun, and felt exquisite pain as its golden, red, blue and white fires ate her up and she was reborn from the ashes._

_The music showed it to her, and promised more. Such beauty! Such rage! _

A harsh shriek interrupted the music and the visions, and Claire opened her eyes. They were red with anger and enchantment.

Throwing up her hands, Claire warded off a small bird that darted around her ears and face. Two more birds held off the two sirens – now standing knee deep in water- and cut off their singing.

Cover your ears and run! The bird shrieked in panic. The red fire faded from Claire's eyes and she obeyed.

She leaped over the rock where the sirens had reclined and belted towards the safety of the trees. She sensed the birds following her, and heard shrieks of anger and anguish from the sirens.

"_Too few! Too few!" _They cried. Claire didn't stop until all she could hear was the flutter of wings and her own footsteps.

* * *

Stopping, Claire collapsed beneath a tree began to sob. Tears of humiliation, fear, shock and exhaustion flowed over her scratched cheeks, stinging and cleaning them with good, earthly salt.

The three little black and white birds fluttered gently by her feet and knees, wordlessly conveying concern and comfort.

After a while, when Claire stopped shaking, she wiped her eyes and patted the birds gently.

"How can I ever than you three? I owe you my life!" Another tear fell from her face. She laughed a thin, wavering laugh as the birds jumped out of the way and scolded her gently.

The sirens are wicked. They poison a good lake and a beautiful part of our forest. One bird informed her seriously. And you needed our help.

Claire took the small loaf of bread from her bag – which she had miraculously kept all along – and crumbled it up. She scattered it around for the birds and nibbled some herself.

Claire straightened her clothes, rubbed the blood from her scratches and ran her fingers through her hair in an attempt to neaten herself up. A strand caught on something. The leaf necklace.

Hadn't she meant to rid herself of it a dozen times? Hadn't she taken it off the night she stayed in the fortress, and deliberately left it in a draw, out of sight? She must have replaced it out of habit, without thinking about it.

Claire tore it angrily from her neck, and tossed it away from her, not even looking to see where it fell.

"What am I going to do?" Claire asked herself. She'd been travelling in a straight line since she left Jareth, knowing vaguely that Emrald lay that way. Now she no longer had any idea what way she was heading or how far she'd run from her course.

Eat some more, the birds encouraged, and find a nest for the night.

"Have you seen any human nests around?" Claire asked, only half joking.

The birds conferred.

There is one human nest. An old female and a young male – her nestling – live there. They may let you share their nest and food.

"They're not flesh eating monsters like those crazy females back there?" Claire asked shuddering.

The birds scolded her in their vast vocabulary of cheeps, clicks and whistles, telling Claire that they weren't some silly sparrows who'd lead her into another mess.

"My apologies." Claire replied, hiding a smile.

With the bird's encouragement, Claire slowly rose slowly – she felt old and weary - and began following them through the woods. They flew from tree to tree, chirping at her and their fellows, boasting that this was _their _flockmate, and how they'd all bested the sirens.

By the time Claire reached a small cottage by a stream, they'd about 40 different birds of varying size and colour had joined the group.

If Claire had seen herself she would have been amazed. A young woman clad in the garments of the warrior elves, scratched and weary but still strong and proud, heralded and guarded by a flock of birds...she looked like a fairytale heroine.

As it was, Claire just wanted something more substantial than stale bread to eat and a place to rest her head.

A young man, maybe 25 years old, emerged from the cottage and viewed the scene with suspicious eyes. They widened at what they saw, but he gripped his huntsman's axe tightly and spoke roughly.

"What's all this the eh? Some new siren or spritely trick? What have ye done to the birds, eh? Enchanted them too, I suppose, with thy...feminine wiles and...and venomous magic?"

"Good day sir. I'm no sprite nor siren." Claire couldn't help but shudder.

"I was travelling to Emrald, but my elvish guides and I became separated. All I request is some food and directions, and somewhere to sleep for the night." Claire glanced up. The sky was darkening, and the thick cover of trees made the night approach much faster.

"Aye that well may be. But we are but poor tree folk, not rich warrior lords. The Goblin King takes all our extra food and firewood, we have naught to spare." He began to back away into the house, brandishing his axe threateningly.

"Please, I think I have some coins in here. You can have all of them!" Claire called, desperation colouring her voice and pinching her brow. The birds scolded the young man from their perches.

"Coins? We have no use for those. Away with you!"

"Out of the way, boy!" A voice sounded from within the darkened cottage, and the man writhed as though he was being poked in his back with a stick.

"Grandmother! That's no tree-girl, no matter what clothes she wears!" He protested. Claire bit back the urge to giggle. It reminded her of teenage boys Aboveground being embarrassed by their mothers.

A small, bent over, wrinkled woman emerged from behind the glowering man. She was very short and leaned on a knobbly stick, her face looked like a wizened up apple. Despite this, her eyes were bright and clear, and her grin mischievous.

"Of course not you foolish boy. She'd one of the Goblin King's, an Aboveground girl. And if helping her annoys him..." she cackled, and the man regarded her warily.

"Dare we cross him?" The man muttered, and the woman shushed him, reminded him that the goblin king held little power here. She beckoned to Claire, who followed without hesitation.

The man was a tree-man, she was sure. She'd spied the leaf-pattern across his knuckles as he gripped the axe. The woman though...Claire guessed she was some kind of wise-woman or hedge witch. She didn't seem wicked, in fact she was the most human of anyone Claire had met here in the Underground.

The woman tottered into the house, and the young man stood aside to let Claire in, still glowering. She sidled past him nervously, and went over to where the woman had taken a seat by the window. The shutters were open which allowed a fresh breeze though the house.

There was only one room. There were two beds, each tucked into alcoves in the wall at either end of the cottage. There were curtains that could be pulled around them at night. A small, scarred, wooden table sat in the middle of the room and bunches of herbs and plants hung from the rafters. A large cupboard sat opposite to the door at the other end of the room. One door was open and revealed jars of preserves, brown paper bags and sacks of supplies. It was like a scene from a fairy-tale.

"Now Birdy, I was talking to my friend the elk-king this afternoon and told me about you. Wandering about the forest in warrior-clothes without even a knife to defend yourself from the perils. Very trusting of very stupid, I thought to myself. But he liked you, and that means a lot."

"You could have told me that _he_ vouched for her!" Protested the young man from beside the fire, where he stirred a large pot of soup.

"Hush lad, if I told you all I knew then your head would explode. Now!" She turned and faced Claire again.

"Then I hear the far off singing of the siren-wenches and think to myself, ah! She'd done for! But then you emerge, a little the worst for wear, alive and surrounded by your little friends. Now how does an Aboveground maiden manage that, I wonder?"

Claire saw no danger in the woman. She told them her story, beginning with the small red book and finishing with her encounter of the sirens.

"But Birdy my girl, how came you by this...this talent? How do you speak to the birds?"

" I was sick when I arrived here, and the Goblin King had to blast me with his magic to kill it, to cure me, I mean. Maybe some traces of it remain? I've heard Jareth has a strange affinity with birds. I can also see through some of his weaker illusions too, though he knows about that and has probably compensated for it now." Claire said regretfully.

"Hmm, usually that wouldn't be enough to give you such a strong gift, if we may call it that." The woman muttered to herself, more concerned with the bird-talking than illusions.

"You lived in his home and ate his food, wore his clothes and jewels. I suppose that might do it. Or maybe you were just meant to be here,_ meant_ to become a creature of the underground."

"What?" asked Claire, slightly horrified. A creature of the underground? Her?

"Well Birdy, you obviously weren't meant to be Aboveground." Claire curled her lip distastefully. No one had talked about the tumour like that before. They seemed to regard it as a terrible twist of fate, a cruel but impersonal case of bad luck. No one had ever dared to say that it was meant to be, that the world didn't want her so it tried to rid itself of her.

Spotting her dislike for that statement, the old woman asked her if there was anything she missed about her old life.

"Any friends? A beau? A future you planned?"

Claire was silent for a while, staring out the window to the darkening forest.

"I knew many years ago that I wouldn't live to be 20. We moved house when I was 15, to a new town, a new start. I didn't make any new friends. It wouldn't have been fair on them. I never really planned a career either, I didn't want to have any more regrets than I'd have anyway as I died. I never took on a hobby, I knew it would be a waste of my parent's money that they could be spending on my brother, and they spent lots on medical treatment anyway. The only thing I miss is my family, but I was very prepared to let them go soon anyway. Maybe...maybe it was meant to be."

The three sat quietly, all lost in thought. Presently, the pot began to boil and the three gathered wordlessly around the table. They ate the soup and fresh bread rolls, Claire felt she'd never tasted anything so simple and good. The old woman and the man chattered about housekeeping business, and Claire sat in thought. When they packed up, the man set up a small pallet under the window for Claire and they all went to sleep.

* * *

Claire woke to the sound of a bird chirping outside her window. She opened the shutter quietly, and the bird told her that it was a lovely day, and wondered why she was still in her nest when the rest of the forest had been awake for hours. Looking around, Claire saw that her two companions had indeed risen and left a loaf of bread and a pot of honey for her on the table.

Well, go and feed, or you'll be hungry later, the bird told her, and Claire obeyed with a smile.

After she'd broken her fast, went outside to find the man chopping wood for kindling. Upon seeing Claire, he put down his axe and wiped his brow, scowling.

"I feel I must apologise for me treatment of ye yesterday. Mayhap I was unreasonably inhospitable to ye."

"No need to apologise, I'm sure I should have thought less of you if you'd let me in without question. I've only been in these woods ...what, two days? And already I understand your need to be distrustful, especially when you're protecting someone else."

The man's face brightened, and he laughed.

"Old Grandmother Fern hardly needs protecting, but I can see ye aren't as silly as I first thought ye. Oh, by the way, I don't think I ever told ye ma' name. It's Kurt."

Claire smiled, happy she'd made peace with this potentially dangerous man, gathered the kindling into a basket and took it indoors.

She found Grandmother Fern mixing up a brew on her work table, and a pot of pungent herbs stewing on the fire. She gave her cackling laugh.

"So ye charmed young Kurt, did ye? Ah, he's a good lad."

"I don't know about _charmed." _Muttered Claire embarrassed.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Grandmother Fern looked up at her sharply, he eyes focussing on something at Claire's neck. Claire's immediate thought was that a spider was on her, and stiffened. She hated spiders.

"You can tell me where on earth you got _that." _

Claire put her hand to her neck and felt something that made a chill run down her spine.

It was the leaf necklace.

* * *

Many miles away, a young elf-warrior groaned and stirred. He'd lain in a heap under a bush for many hours, unconscious. Struggling out of the undergrowth, Hadrian found himself in an unfamiliar part of his forest.

"Stefan!" He called. Only echoes and birdcalls answered him.

"Stefan!" What the hell had happened? He'd argued with Stefan, and Claire had stalked off. He'd heard a movement in the bushes and the horses had reared. He'd gone to investigate...there his memory failed him.

"Stefan!" He called again, panic rising in his chest as he groped for his sword.

Looking round he realised what had happened, and hope failed him.

"Claire." He whispered in despair, and the proud elf-Prince hung his head.


	11. Chapter 11 Emrald

Hey people! I'm sososo sorry that this chapter has taken me so long! Is the fact that I've just moved onto campus to start university any excuse? No? Okay I promise I'll upload more frequently in future now that I'm settled :) Hope you enjoy this, I know it's a bit light on action and our favourite goblin king, but I can promise that there will be plenty in the next chapter! Enjoy!

* * *

Claire's hand flew from her throat as though burned, and made a noise of frustrated impatience. "Dammit Jareth, you're so infuriating!" She growled to the ceiling, flinging her hands dramatically.

"Well Birdy? What is it? That charm's filled with fey magic; I can see it from here!"

"My maid at the castle I stayed in used to bring me jewellery to wear, if I was ever _summoned_ to some silly fey pageantry. I was wearing this the day Hadrian snatched me. I...I've had a feeling that it wasn't quite normal, and I've tried to rid myself of it a few times..."

Wait. Filled with fey magic?

A sudden memory flashed before Claire's eyes.

_... the arms surrounded her, pulling her back against this intruder's chest, her arms pinned to her sides...her eyes found the King's, who now stood, his expression thunderous. Everyone else was staring at her and whoever held her, shocked. The King reached out an arm, his gloved hand shining with power, and a jet of light sped towards them..._

The leaf necklace wasn't a subtle message from either the tree-people or the Goblin King, as she'd feared! She'd been given it quite coincidentally by the unsuspecting maid and the King had enchanted it as she was kidnapped! Relief flooded Claire as she told Grandmother Fern her realisation.

"Hmph! Well, there's not much point in trying to rid yourself of it then. Either _he_'ll take it from you or it will follow you for eternity. But I imagine he'll always be able to find you, and as you travel further into his domain he may even be able to manipulate you through it."

"What? Can't you get rid of it for me? Or some other magic worker?" Claire asked, mortified.

"Nay girly, Jareth's power is the strongest in the Underground. Why d'ye think he could hang on to his crown and everything attached to it for so long?" Kurt had walked into the room to see what all the fuss was about, and dumped the bag of kindling he carried. His face was bitter, making his opinion of Jareth clear.

"Are you going to join in the rebellion against him?" Claire asked suddenly. Kurt turned away, and busied himself at the fire.

"Nay, I'm no good for fighting." He muttered. Claire frowned, confused. He was strong and young, and felt passion for the cause. Grandmother Fern was uncharacteristically quiet as the man who called her grandmother turned back around and took a deep breath.

"I used to live in Emrald, and fight under ye friend Hadrian. But I was wounded, and abandoned on the battlefield. I s'pose they thought I was dead. No one really checked. Woke up here, alive and on the mend. But I'll never fight again. Y'see?" Kurt shrugged his shoulder from his coat, and displayed a huge jagged scar, as though a chunk of skin and muscle had been hacked from his living limb. A similar one stretched from his knee to ankle. His voice was emotionless as he told Claire his story.

Kurt put his coat back on, walked out of the cottage, and shut the door gently. Claire wished he'd slammed it. Anger would have been better than his quiet hopelessness.

"Hadrian thinks he's dead, doesn't he? Those men in he fought with, they were his friends, his family. Why doesn't he go back to Emrald?" Claire asked, having forgotten the question of her necklace.

"He fears it. He fears their pity, their scorn, their guilt. He dreams, and remembers. But it wouldn't be the same if he went back. All his life, Kurt was a soldier. Here the duties he has taken on are reminiscent of those days – protecting and providing for me, and such." The wise-woman explained softly, her rough and ancient voice surprisingly tender.

* * *

An hour or so later, as Claire shelled peas and chatted with Grandmother Fern, the door swung open, and Kurt beckoned to Claire.

"Ye girl, come and help me bring water." He didn't wait for a reply, but strode off towards the woods. Claire finally noticed that he favoured one leg.

"Well, go on birdy. You'd better take some buckets." The old woman cacked, and pointed a crooked finger at a pile of pails in the corner.

Claire grabbed four, and scurried after the moody elf.

Catching up to him easily, Claire thrust two buckets into his hands, and carried two herself. She was dammed if she'd be walked all over by Kurt.

"Kurt?" Claire began, as they followed a faint trail through the trees. Ahead she could see a charming well in a clearing. _How picturesque,_ Claire though, momentarily distracted. Kurt grunted, and Claire took that as a signal that she could continue.

"I was wondering if you might teach me how to defend myself, maybe give me some pointers how to use the bows you make here. I did archery for a while back Aboveground, but I imagine it's rather different here. And maybe a bit of knife work. Nothing fancy, I don't expect to hold my own in a fight, just be able to defend myself a bit, and have enough time to get away..." Aware that she was babbling, Claire shut up and waited for a reply.

"A'right." Kurt replied, attaching the first bucket to the rope that hung over the lip of the well. He began lowering it as Claire gaped in surprise.

"Ye expected me to refuse, then?" Kurt asked, a small smile appearing.

"Well, I thought you might take a bit of convincing." Admitted Claire.

"Well, at first I thought ye might be stupid, and I'll be demmed if I wate m' time teaching someone who's just going to get killed anyway." Claire raised an eyebrow in amusement at his frankness.

"But ye are a clever one, I think, and deserve a bit o' help. Hadrian and his crew are using you for all y'are worth, and Jareth no doubt would rather ye a helpless babe." Claire wrinkled her nose in distaste, then shrugged mentally. Even if he was only teaching her as a petty sort of revenge against Jareth and his former comrades, she wasn't going to complain.

After lunch, Kurt led Claire outside a short way from the cottage as Grandmother Fern watched from the window and sewed, her gnarled hands surprisingly deft with a needle and thread.

First, he gave Claire a series of exercises to practice every day.

"Several times a day too, ye hear? If we were doing this properly we'd be doing these and only these f'r months, and I'd have ye running through knee deep water to build up yer strength before beginning the technical stuff." Kurt growled.

Claire smiled charmingly, and promised she would, making the old woman in the window chuckle.

They then began on some basic self-defence techniques, similar ones taught to all the girls at Claire's school when they reached year 9. They expanded on these, and he taught her some more hand-to-hand combat moves.

"Tha'll do for now." Kurt told her, as the sun began to set and their stomachs to rumble.

"And remember..." his first flew towards Claire's face, and she blocked it instinctively. He grinned, surprised but approving.

"Never let down yer guard."

As they walked inside, Claire noticed him rubbing his arm, and his limp was more pronounced. Guilt pinched at her nerves. But as they helped Grandmother Fern serve up, she noticed he seemed brighter, more enthused, and a lot less grumpy. Perhaps having a purpose and using the skills he thought he'd lost along with his former life was good for him?

Dawn came, and Claire woke to the unpleasant sensation of being prodded with Grandmother Fern's stick.

"Get up Girly, ye'll never learn to fight lyin' a'bed all day." He hissed, and disappeared out the door.

Groaning, Claire followed him, and went through the warm up exercises with her eyes half shut and her mind three quarters asleep. A sudden wave of cold water hit Claire like a wall. Letting out a shriek, she noticed Kurt standing beside her, trying not to grin, holding a bucket.

"Ye awake now?"

Claire flew at him and used all the moves he'd taught her yesterday in an attempt to show the smug elf just how awake she was.

He blocked them all easily.

When she'd calmed down and used all the moves she could think of, Kurt regarded her red-faced, dripping form.

"That was surprisingly good, considering ye only began yesterday." He said approvingly.

"Well I suppose flinging freezing cold water on me at some ridiculous hour of the morning gave me some form of motivation." Muttered Claire, but she couldn't stay mad at her teacher.

Kurt slapped her on the back, let out a laugh, and they walked inside for breakfast.

* * *

Life was good for Claire for the next three weeks. She forgot why she wanted to learn fighting arts, she forgot the wars between the goblin king she owed her life to and feared, and she forgot the elves whom she had agreed to help when she owed them nothing. She forgot her family, she forgot that she no longer belonged in her world. All that mattered was helping Grandmother Fern and mastering her lessons with Kurt.

Kurt proved to be a natural teacher, and while Claire would never be a warrior, she became strong and able to defend herself. Her skills in hand to hand combat and knife fighting were as good as anyone her age could hope, and her archery was more than most people would think her capable of.

"Try this bow," Kurt had said, as he strung one he'd used as a boy. Claire took it, practiced with it for a few hours before handing it back to a surprised Kurt saying:

"It doesn't like me and I don't like it. I feel like I'm about to break it when I draw it, and the balance is all wrong for me."

"Try this, Birdy!" Kurt and Claire turned around in surprise. They'd both thought Grandmother Fern was out for the day. Now she stood by the entrance of her cottage holding a large bow and a coiled string. Kurt had protested that it was too big for a beginner; it was nearly as tall as Claire herself! But Claire took it, strung it was only a little difficulty, and then placed an arrow to the string. Drawing it back smoothly, she'd smiled. It was perfect.

Life continued like this for nearly six weeks. Until one morning when Claire awoke at dawn, as was her habit, opened the shutters and found a quivering sparrow on the ledge.

Cradling it in her hands, Claire asked it what the matter was.

An owl, a great big owl! It had no business being on that branch at this time of day!

Claire felt as though someone had poured iced water down her back.

"Where was it, wing-brother? Why was this owl so scary?" Whispered Claire, trying to keep her voice steady.

Just there, watching the window. And it was an owl...but it wasn't.

The bird was confused, they didn't understand espionage or treachery. They didn't sneak into each other's nests and pretend they belonged there.

Claire sighed, and the spell of peace, healing and forgetfulness that had surrounded her in this cottage was broken.

"Ye can't go t' Emrald alone!" Kurt argued over breakfast after they'd finished their morning training.

"What, so you're going to conjure up a guide from thin air? Neither of you will take me. And as much as I love being here, I can't stay. Hadrian probably thinks I'm dead, and I still have unfinished business with his Highness. I don't know what I'm going to do once I get there, but I'll figure that out sooner or later."

"Well Birdy, you're always welcome here. You bring such lovely forest gossip from your little friends!" Grandmother Fern cackled and shooed a sparrow off the back of her chair. It perched on the window sill, scolding her with chirps and shrills.

"And as for the question of how you're getting to Emrald, Kurt shall take you."

"What?" Kurt and Claire exclaimed.

"That's right boy, you've hidden here long enough, and you're ready to take your place amongst your people again."

"_Take ma place_? My place was in battle, and I can't exactly do that anymore, or mayhap you've forgotten?" He yanked his trouser leg up and plonked his leg on the table. Claire winced at the sight of his scar.

"No need to carry on so boy! Ought to have more respect for your poor frail Granny." Kurt snorted angrily, and took his leg down.

"No lad, your place is teaching, training the young ones to go out and do the killing." The old woman chuckled grimly.

"And you can't stay here. I've a few things to tidy up here before I go and join the war effort too, those silly hens what call themselves _healers_ need a bit of instruction in their art. I intend to give it to them."

"Do they get any choice in the matter?" Kurt asked scornfully.

"No." Grandmother Fern replied lightly.

Claire's head was spinning. This happy little world she'd built up around herself was falling apart. Would she never settle here?

* * *

A few hours later, after several very loud arguments that sent Claire's feathered friend quivering to their nests, Claire and Kurt rode towards Emrald. Grandmother Fern had mysteriously (which was the only way she did things) produced a beautiful fine boned gelding for Kurt, and a sturdy, placid mare for Claire. Kurt gave his student a crash (literally) course on riding, and continued to snap instructions at Claire as they travelled. Claire, knowing that Kurt wasn't really angry at her, obeyed quietly and refrained from arguing.

By nightfall they were nearly halfway there.

"Kurt?" Claire said tentatively as they sat around their small campfire.

"Aye?" Claire was surprised to hear weariness in his voice, rather than the waspish anger that had coloured his words all day.

"Are you alright with this? Going back, I mean? I...I'd like to apologise for upsetting both your lives this way, you and Grandmother Fern, I mean."

"Ah Girly, tisn't ye fault. It was high time I headed back. I just...don't know how I'll face them." They sat in silence for a few moments, considering.

"What would you do, how would you feel, if a great friend of yours disappeared? How would you react, knowing that your friend thought you were dead, and never bothered to tell you, or get any message to you? How would you feel, knowing..." his voice trailed off.

"Maybe it's for the best." Claire said, not thinking about Kurt anymore. She was thinking about her brother, who'd grow up not knowing he had a sister. Or maybe dreaming of her sometimes, and not knowing what or who it was that he missed

"I'm sorry Girly, I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean..."

"No Kurt, it's alright." Claire paused, forcing her thoughts away from her old life.

"I'll be honest with you. I'd be mad. Really, really mad. I wouldn't care about your reasons, not at first anyway. But...maybe after I'd got over my anger at the years of wasted grief, I might begin to realise that your...I mean, _my friend's_ return was a gift to be cherished."

"I hope so." Kurt whispered.

Dawn came all too soon, and the two continued on their way. Kurt grew more pale and twitchy as they neared Emrald. Claire grew nervous, feeding from Kurt's tension. She also wondered what lay in store for her with these war-like people. She was afraid.

After they'd paused for lunch, the two rode up a small hill, and they got their first sight of the tree-people's capital. Spires and towers pierced the tree canopy, and Claire could make out staircases twining round living trees.

"I didn't know tree people actually _lived_ in the trees!" Gasped Claire.

"Most of us don't." Shrugged Kurt, and started off down the hill.

Claire remained, gazing at the otherworldly city. A cry of horror cut through the cool, calm air, jagged and frightening as broken glass. Claire froze for a moment, wondering if she'd imagined it. Only the silence of the birds told her something strange had just happened.

"Kurt?" Claire called in a trembling voice. Hearing no reply, Claire dismounted and led her pony down the hill. An odd sight met her eyes.

Kurt stood with his back to her, holding out his hands – whether surrendering or trying to calm someone, she couldn't tell.

A little way off, a figure stood, holding a naked sword, which swung rather recklessly.

"Back demon! Back! Ghosts and phantoms hold no power over me!" His voice shook and cracked with anguish.

"Hadrian?" Gasped Claire, stopping dead.

He looked away from Kurt, and instead of recognition his face registered only more horror. He cried out again, and swung his sword from one to the other.

"Will I never be free from the ghosts of those I've wronged? I'm sorry! I'm sorry! But leave me be!"

"Hadiran, please!" Claire crept towards him. The pain and grief on his face broke her heart. He looked terrible: haggard, pale, lifeless. He had dark shadows under his eyes and he stood like one broken. Nothing like the proud warrior-prince Claire had known.

"Keep back Girly, he's not himself." Warned Kurt out the corner of his mouth. Claire took another few steps towards the shaking man.

"Hadrian, it's me. I'm alive. I'm fine." Her words were soothing, a crooning song. Hadrian blinked several times, as though waking from a terrible dream.

"Claire?"

"Yes, it's me."

"But Kurt, you're dead."

"No...I'm sorry...I..." But he never got to finish. Hadrian dropped his sword and before either of them realised he'd moved, Claire and Kurt both found themselves in a bone crushing embrace.

* * *

When they'd calmed their friend down, Kurt and Claire cajoled him back onto his horse and walked into Emrald. Hadrian talked all the way, his eyes feverishly bright as he demanded answers to his questions about Kurt and where he'd been all this time. Claire listened, smiling to herself. It was clear the two had been greater friends than Kurt had implied, and seeing Hadrian's joy and Kurt's tentative happiness at returning made her very happy indeed.

"So you return to your...to Emrald." Said Hadrian, his smile faltering as he rethought his use of the word "home."

"Will you fight with us again?"

"Nay, I cannae fight as I once did. My limbs are slow and weak, I'd be a danger. But I've been told I'm to teach. Oh, I should warn you – Grandmother Fern, the hedgewitch I told you of – she has decreed that she'll be coming to aid in the field hospitals and training the workers there."

"Fern, eh? I believe I've heard that name spoken in awe and fear before. A hedgewitch you say?"

"Aye, that the impression she gives. But I dunno, she seems more powerful and wily than your average hedgewitch, but getting answers from that one is like pulling hen's teeth."

"Well, she'll be welcome anyway. Already our causalities are high, and the war has barely started. We're both waiting for the other side to make open action and commit to specific aim. We think they'll try to make their way to Emrald, to the council and my father's seat. Rianla took her scouts out today in fact, they're going to try to infiltrate and..." Claire's thoughts drifted as the two began to discuss tactics. For the first time she began to notice her surroundings. The trees thinned and she began to see the sky again. A few times she caught a glimpse of warriors either guarding or scouting, but when they saw Hadrian they allowed him to pass without question. They were too well trained to gawp at his companions. Hastily built outposts became more frequent as the slope began to rise. Emrald was set against a mountain face, Claire remembered. Finally, they came to the town walls. They were huge stone structures, pierced here and there with watch towers. The huge gate was bronze and had swirling designs etched into its surface. A shaft of light struck the top of it, making the gate glow with an ethereal light.

Claire fancied that she was entering an enchanted fairy's town from some tale of long ago. With a nervous giggle, she realised she was.

"No, we won't go in that way. Follow me." Said Hadrian, distracted momentarily from his animated discussion.

"I imagine you'll both cause something of a riot. You wouldn't believe the fuss there was when you went missing Claire. And Kurt, your face is still fondly remembered by many people." They were silent a while, as Kurt paled. It was as though he'd only just realised the magnitude of his actions when he hadn't returned.

They rode along the city walls, but they hadn't gone far when a commotion on the wall made them pause.

"Lord Hadrian!" A soldier called from the wall, urgency colouring his voice.

"You're needed immediately by your parents. They're in their private quarters, we're opening the gate..." A great rumble filled the air. Claire spun and saw the gates swing slowly open. The three turned and trotted through the gates, Hadrian was now silent and his lips tight with worry.

As they entered, young grooms came to take their horses and escort Hadrian to his royal parents. Claire barely noticed the beautiful buildings that grew amongst and around the trees. They were made of dark wood and had green tiled rooves for the most part, but the building they were led to was a shining white with gold inlays around the doors, windows and eaves. Ponds and lakes shone in amongst the houses, which were spaciously set out. It didn't seem like a city, it was too peaceful and lovely. Had Claire and her companions not been so worried, they would have stopped to marvel, and noticed how people began to whisper and point as they saw their prince and his companions.

They were hustled inside a great drawing room. A man with white hair sat next to a woman with grey hair, a stark contrast to the deep green/black of the younger tree-people. Despite their great age and the worry in both their faces, Claire could see wisdom and beauty in them. The woman had the leaf pattern around her eyes, as Rianla did. The king had a similar pattern on his brows, like a crown. They were, however, interspersed with yellow leaves, which Claire hadn't seen on any of the elves she'd met.

Kurt and Claire lingered at the door as Hadrian went to greet his parents. Other people scurried in and out of the room, adding to the tension in the air. Claire was sure the woman had been crying. Her eyes were red, but her neck held her head proudly.

"My son, we have received grave news concerning our daughter, the Lady Rianla." The King began, his voice shaking slightly.

"She was out scouting; you don't mean she's been caught, surely?" Hadrian was pale, but maintained his professional soldier's demeanour.

"We were against this mission from the start, putting herself in danger like that! Now our cause is threatened before it has even begun. Yes, she was caught, and the _usurper_ demands a hostage exchange. But I fear..."

"Well that's easy! We have several high ranking Fey warriors, not of any real value to our cause, but friends of some generals and from wealthy families..." his voice faded as the lady shook her head slowly, sadly.

"He doesn't want one of them. Jareth demands that girl, Claire, the one who was lost. It's folly, he was the one who caused her to be lost in the woods, and he knows we haven't got her! I fear it's simply an excuse to...to do away with the one all our people look to, the leader of our cause." She gave a shuddering sob and put her head on her husband's shoulder, hiding her tears.

Claire felt her face go red, and looked at the floor. Kurt looked at her sideways, and Hadrian gaped at his parents.

"We can't give him Claire! She's not a hostage! Besides, Claire would never agree to it, and she's well within her right not to, aren't you?" Hadrian strode across the room in agitation, took Claire by the hand and pulled her gently over to stand before the King and Queen. They gaped at her.

"Lady Claire? You? But...how?" They stuttered.

"Tell them you won't go back to him." Hadrian pleaded.

Claire looked at the couple, who were trying to regain composure. In the king's hand lay a scroll. She could see a broken seal on it, in grey wax. The queen held something else. A lock of hair. Rianla's.

"Of course I'll go."


	12. Chapter 12 Taken

Hey people! Again, I'm sorry how long this story is taking me, I hope you'll stick with me and that you'll think it's worth it! As always I still don't own the Labyrinth and I love constructive criticism, so read and review! Love love love.

* * *

The royal party stood in the designated spot in the woods, a small clearing that had been cordoned off with golden chains, and sprigs of green branches sat at each corner. This, apparently, was the proper way to conduct a parlay.

Claire stood, imagining herself to be a quiet forest pool in attempt to calm her nerves. A pale elf-queen stood to her left, Hadrian fumed on her right.

Hadrian was upset.

He'd ranted and raged, he'd pleaded, he'd joked, he'd made dire predictions and even threatened to lock Claire up. But she wouldn't budge.

"You told me I was under no obligation to your people. I'm clearly not a subject and I'm not sworn to you. You can either make me a prisoner, or you can let me go." Claire said, over and over.

Hadrian then exploded at his parents who'd sided with Claire. He'd accused them of being biased (which Claire thought was entirely reasonable. Rianla was their daughter; of course they'd pick her over some stranger!) and putting their daughter's good before that of their cause. An upset queen had then accused him of trying to get Rianla out of the way so he could claim the throne (which everyone, including the queen, knew was ridiculous).

Things had continued rather badly until Grandmother Fern turned up unannounced, rapped Hadrian over the head with her stick, and reasoned with them all.

Claire peered over to where Grandmother Fern stood, slightly away from the royal party, and wondered again who she really was. The King -and indeed everyone of consequence - treated her with awe. But no one quite seemed to know why.

Claire thought again of the previous days, and remembered when a stony faced Hadrian had been forced to agree to Claire's decision.

"I'm not part of this conflict, I refuse to take sides. Taking your side would endanger your cause, since I can't seem to get The Goblin King's attention off me, and I don't particularly want to take his side. I can't hide out here, he's made that impossible. So I'll return to the Goblin King and wait it out there. I imagine he'll lose interest in me once he has me back."

So here they stood. In an attempt to seem neutral, Claire had requested that she be clothed neither in the fashion of the fey nor the elves. She'd designed a simple blue gown that fell to her knees, paired it with impractical but pretty little slippers and braided her hair. Due to the chill in the air and the threatening clouds, she allowed Hadrian to give her a light cloak. She wore it now with the hood pushed back slung away from her shoulders. She didn't want to appear weak and cowering before the Goblin King by hiding under it. She did, however, keep the bow Grandmother Fern had given her. It was slung, unstrung, over her back hidden beneath the cloak.

A bird chirped in a tree, noting the party of humans and wishing they'd go away because their charms drove away the insects it fed on. Claire smiled at its simple concerns.

Suddenly the bird shrieked and zipped away. Claire gasped as a huge owl glided out of nothing into the clearing. A plume of smoke erupted from the ground, enveloping the bird. When it cleared, Jareth stood on the ground before the royal party.

He stood casually, a lazy smirk on his face, his arms crossed over his chest. He wore a shining breastplate and black boots. His leather gloves had small metal plates attached on the fingers and knuckles. He was a nightmare of black and silver, and Claire gulped. She'd forgotten how terrifying he could be.

"Your Highness, my one time vassal!" He gave a mocking bow.

"Treason does not become you, you appear most emaciated." Jareth drawled at the Elf King. Hadrian twitched, but the King maintained an expression of polite disinterest.

"King Jareth. When your policies threaten the wellbeing of my people, secession is the only choice. I had hoped that we could discuss this matter; unfortunately that option was taken from me when you exiled my ambassador. What else was I to do?" The Elf King spread his hands in a gesture of innocence.

"Your ambassador acted in a way most unsuited to a diplomat. Perhaps if you'd waited until another could be appointed before coming into my own halls and doing more than just threatening the lives of my subjects then we could have been spared this unpleasantness."

As Jareth uttered the last words, he held up his hand. The air shimmered, and a glass ball appeared. Gasps rippled around the clearing as the tree-people saw that it contained their princess. A tiny Rianla slumped at the bottom of it. Even so small and at such a distance, they could see her clothes were tattered and grubby bandages were wrapped around her head and one leg.

"Now, let us complete our bargain. Your hostage for mine."

With a movement like the striking of a snake, Jareth threw the ball at Claire. She threw up her hands but it didn't hit her. Smoke issued around her and when it cleared Claire found herself standing next to Jareth, and Hadrian was holding a swooning Rianla.

"Our parlay is over. Our deal is complete. I will be in contact." Jareth snapped, his eyes cold. He wrapped an arm around Claire's waist and pulled her close.

"Must you?" Claire asked anxiously, pushing him away. She was very aware of the tree-people's eyes, and strove not to look at Hadrian. She knew he'd take it badly.

"Well, yes actually. My power is compromised here; I wouldn't want you to go astray as I'm taking you back." He murmured, pulling her closer. She was very aware of his gloved hand beneath her breast, and his rock hard muscles. She blushed, and stood still, trying to ignore him as best she could.

Light shimmered around them, slowly becoming brighter. Claire wanted to scold him for his theatrics.

"Calire" Jareth whipered, and she automatically turned up her face to him.

With lightning fast movements, Jareth wrapped his other arm around her and pressed his lips to hers. A flash of light blasted the clearing and as they disappeared, the last thing Claire saw was Hadrian's furious face.

* * *

The next thing Claire was aware of was cobblestones beneath her feet and a change in the air. They'd arrived.

Claire wrenched her face away from Jareth's and struggled out of his arms.

"What the hell Jareth? You can't just go around kissing me to piss Hadrian off! I mean, physically you can, you're way stronger than me, but it's not right!" Claire stuttered, fuming.

"Who said I was doing it to...uh..._piss him off?_" Jareth leaned against a stone wall, crossing his arms, and regarding Claire in an amused sort of fashion.

"Oh please, I'm not stupid." Claire muttered, suddenly distracted by her surroundings. Stone walls ran parallel to each other then disappeared around a corner. Briars rambled over them, and the ground was cobbled. The blue sky was visible above. They were clearly very far away from the tree-people's wood.

"Are we in the _Labyrinth?"_ Claire gasped.

"Indeed. The tree-people can't get here, so I imagine you'll be safe whist our hostilities are playing out." He pushed off from the wall and walked casually away from Claire. He spoke about the situation with the elves so casually that Claire realised he really didn't care about the conflict at all. He just disliked Hadrian. If the elves played it right Claire was suddenly sure that Jareth would give them what they wanted. Claire wished she could share this with them, and was struck by a wave of homesickness for Kurt, Grandmother Fern, the woods...and Hadrian.

Claire winced as she remembered his face as she'd been transported away. Did he think she wanted to be kissed? Damn Jareth for making her look up at him like that!

Thinking of Jareth, Claire realised he'd disappeared around a corner.

"Hey wait!" She called, and ran to catch up. She skidded around a corner, but the corridor was empty. She turned around slowly, confused.

"Yes?" Claire screamed and tripped over backwards as she realised that Jareth was standing right behind her. He chuckled and watched her scramble to her feet, her face flaming.

"So... so are you just going to leave me here while these _hostilities_ are going on?" Claire asked, growing more annoyed by the second.

"Don't be absurd." Jareth replied, and turned a handle in the wall that Claire knew wasn't there a second ago. The wall swung open to reveal a garden. At the other end lay what Claire took to be a very large house, what one might call a mansion.

"You'll stay there. Unless of course you _want_ to go wandering in the labyrinth, which I wouldn't recommend."

"Is it run by goblins?" Claire asked nervously.

"No. And since when do you call me Jareth?" Claire turned to look at the Goblin King, but he was gone.

After a moment, Claire shook her head and headed towards the house, muttering to herself about being shocked, and all the elves calling him that and that people shouldn't go round kissing people just to annoy other people.

* * *

That night, (after exploring the strange, empty-yet-full castle, enjoying a meal that appeared from thin air and being readied for bed by a little breeze that seemed almost human) Claire lay in her huge canopied bed, running her fingers over her lips. They felt normal under her fingers, but seemed swollen in her mind.

Her first kiss.

Claire slammed her fist down on the covers and rolled over angrily.

How dare that brat of a goblin king take her first kiss like that! Fist kisses are meant to be special! He'd used it to annoy his rival, how dare he!

Claire sat up and swung her legs out of her (now messy) bed, and paced around the room a few times, then went and perched on the window seat. The moon was bright and lit up the branches of a nearby tree. An owl sat there. Claire scowled at it until she realised that it was just an owl, and called it over.

You are tense like a mouse when a snake is near. The owl observed, amusement colouring its voice.

"Hm, that Goblin King stresses me out." Muttered Claire.

"He's infuriating. And the worst part is I actually enjoyed the kiss at the time! It felt powerful and exciting, scary yet thrilling...ugh what am I saying! He's a bastard and that just proves it even more."

The owl regarded her solemnly.

"Oh well, now he has me locked up here I guess he'll forget about me. I hope the tree people are alright. I wonder how Rianla is..." mused Claire.

The Goblin King does not forget. I don't think you will be alone for long. The owl ruffled his feathers, settling comfortably on the window sill. And I am not a creature of the labyrinth, I go where I will. I will find your friends and tell them that you are well, and bring any message in return.

"You'd do that for me? Why?" Asked Claire, amazed. Birds didn't really have any concept of doing _favours_ for one another. Maybe owls weren't quite...birds.

The elves are good people, and the goblin king gives owls a bad name. The owl shifted irritably. I hope you do not judge us all with regards to him.

Claire assured him that she did not, and he soared away silently into the night.

* * *

The next morning, Claire got up and found a pretty gown lying over the back of an ornate chair by the fireplace.

"Oh dear. That's very pretty, but I want to go exploring today. Couldn't I have some trackies and runners or something?"

The dress raised in the air (this didn't startle Claire at all any more) and hovered there anxiously. It quivered as though hands were plucking at its edges.

"Oh, um...what about some, uh, trousers and boots then?"

The dress disappeared with an angry _pop_ and another outfit appeared. It was a dress still, but the skirt was wide and only would come down to her knees. It was made of sturdy cotton and there were some riding boots sitting under the chair. Picking up the dress, there was another, slightly less angry _pop_ and something that would pass for tights in the aboveground appeared.

"Oh alright" muttered Claire, and put them on. She loved dresses and dressing up. But it went against the grain to wear them in situations where they'd get dirt and ruined. Claire knew they could probably be mended by magic as easy as anything, but it still seemed wasteful.

During a lonely breakfast, Claire found herself talking to the air, hoping that the magics that poured her tea and buttered her toast weren't laughing at her.

"You know, maybe none of this is real and I've gone mad. Some people with...with what I had go kinda coo-coo. Delusions and stuff. Maybe this is all a really long and involved dream. But I hope it isn't. It's more interesting than anything back there. Or _up there_ I suppose. Why _is_ this called the Underground anyway? As far as I can tell we're not actually underground. I mean, there's a sky and clouds and rain and stuff." She didn't, of course, receive an answer.

"I wonder how Hadrian is? I wonder what he thinks of me now..." She sighed moodily, wondering when her owl friend would return.

"I've heard that the first sign of madness is talking to oneself." Jareth had appeared suddenly. He was reclining (of course) in one of the ornate chairs at Claire's breakfast table with his boots next to her plate. They were perfectly clean and left no marks, but Claire wrinkled her nose irritably and moved her plate.

"Yes well you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" she muttered.

"Very witty. I came to see how you're settling in."

"Oh that's very considerate. Who are you, and what have you done with that nutter of a goblin king?" Claire snapped. Jareth slammed his riding crop down on the table, making Claire jump back and her heart race.

"One day that tongue of yours will get you into trouble. Serious trouble, trouble that I won't be able to overlook." His voice was calm but his eyes blazed. Claire kept her eyes fixed on her lap, her heart racing. It was never safe to get confident around this...creature.

Jareth reappeared by Claire's chair. He put his gloved fingers beneath her chin and rained her head so that she was looking into his eyes. She couldn't look away, and a sweat broke out on her forehead. Those eyes were empty yet full, ancient yet timeless, she was falling...

He looked away, and Claire grasped the table for support, gasping. Her head spun after looking into his eyes for so long. What has she seen there? She couldn't even recall...

"I suppose you are lonely. I'll see what I can do. Don't wander too far." His voice was nonchalant. Then he was gone.

Claire sat a few moments more, trying to calm her pulse.

"That bastard!" She screamed suddenly, slamming her hands on the fine white cloth. A teapot appeared and poured a strong cup for her. A milk jug joined it, added the perfect amount of milk, then stood by nervously as the teapot nudged the cup towards Claire's hand.

"Hmph. Where were you all when I had my unwelcome visitor?" Claire asked waspishly. They shifted guiltily.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'd disappear too if I could. He scares me." _Then why do I miss him when I don't see him for a few days?_

Claire pushed the unwelcome thought from her head, and walked out into the sunlight. Through the garden. Into the Labyrinth.

* * *

Okay people, I want to know what you want. More Jareth? More Hadrian? Some original characters to make an appearance? Let me know, but no guarentees about what's happening next! Hope you enjoyed, stay tuned for more :)


	13. Chapter 13 Several Strange Encounters

Hello people! Thanks to all the lovely people who reviewed and gave me their thoughts. It really influenced the way this is going now, thought you may not see the results for a while. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I did writing it.

Note: The dragons and their home is heavily influenced by the dragons from the Tortall books by the wonderful Tamora Pierce. Read them, seriously.

* * *

Scarcely had Claire's feet touched the cobbled pathway of the Labyrinth when it began to rain. Rain didn't bother her, but when it continued to increase to the point that Claire was spitting water and couldn't even see her hand in front of her face she decided that she ought to go back inside.

_Is this rain typical of the Labyrinth? _Wondered Claire as she dripped through the hallways back to her room to change. _Or a trick of Jareth's to keep me out of the Labyrinth?_

Claire found her bow and spent the day practicing archery in a long gallery. A target had appeared when she spoke aloud her desire for one. At that point Claire realised that it would take some effort not to become extremely lazy if she was to live in this place for any length of time.

As evening fell the rain died away. The sun sank fast and a chill descended over Claire's little castle. After her lonely dinner, Claire found a cosy little room with a shelf of books and a merry fire. She snuggled into a large chair until she decided it was bedtime. If this was life as a prisoner of war, perhaps she could get used to it.

A little while later a tray appeared on the table next to her. Occupying it was mug of some steaming liquid and a crumpet smothered in butter and honey. Claire smiled and thanked the air. She had no idea if the spells that acted like servants appreciated her thanks, but it went against the grain not to thank _someone_ for being waited on.

"Mmm, what _is_ this drink?" Claire asked no one in particular as she took a sip. It was rich and chocolaty, and warmed her immediately. The tray quivered anxiously.

"Oh, don't worry, I know you can't talk. It doesn't really matter anyway; I'll ask Jar...I'll ask the Goblin King next time he visits." Claire said, guessing the reason for the tray's anxiety.

Claire put down the drink and nibbled the edge of the crumpet, only to drop it in her lap when the one she'd just spoken about appeared in front of her, looking very irritated.

"Speak of the..."  
"Well, what do you want?" His polished voice was even more clipped than usual, Claire gaped at him.

"I'm a busy man you know, on the brink of war, as I'm _sure_ you noticed. I get a summons telling me you needed something, urgently."

Claire would have giggled if her keeper wasn't looking so angry. She wasn't scared though, he his anger was much more human than the stormy rage he sometimes displayed.

"Um...I think it might be...well, I asked what this drink was called. Then, I remembered that my _servants_ can't talk so I told them I'd ask you next time you were here and maybe they took that as a request for you to come?" Claire winced and shrunk back a little, still resisting the urge to giggle at his face, which now changed from irritable to incredulous.

He closed his eyes briefly, looked at the ceiling as though asking for patience and clicked his fingers. A spark flew from them and soared out the room.

"I must have over emphasised the request for the spells to cater to all your desires. They should be slightly more reasonable now." Muttering, he turned and faced the fire. Again he clicked his fingers, and another chair appeared next to Claire's. He threw himself into it moodily, picked up the crumpet Claire had nibbled on and ate it. He threw the crust into the fire (which roared more at its reception than Claire thought was strictly necessary by natural law) and slouched gracefully (He was the only person Claire knew who could slouch gracefully) down into the chair. A footstool appeared in front of him and he plonked his feet moodily onto it.

Jareth reminded Claire of her father after a hard day at the office. He also liked to slouch, or sit sideways with his leg over the arm rest and Claire's mother would often wonder where on earth he picked up the habit.

"Are you..." began Claire, then thought better of it. Somehow she didn't think Jareth would take kindly to her asking if he was "alright."

"You look like my father after a hard day at the office." She observed instead.

"Hmph. And how is Toby? I haven't seen him in years." Muttered the King, knowing he shouldn't, but enjoying the thought of Claire's reaction.

Claire spluttered.

"My father knows you?"

"No, not really. I suppose you could say I babysat for him once." The King sounded amused.

Claire's mind spun. Finally, she remarked that she'd like to hear the story of how her family got mixed up in all this mess.

They sat in silence a while longer.

"Are...are things not going well? I don't want to seem like I'm prying or anything, you just don't seem your...uh..._usual _self." Claire asked hesitantly, unable to stand the silence any longer.

"Indeed. All this sitting in a council room and diplomacy makes me feel like a mortal."

"Forgive me, but you do seem more, well, _human_ than usual." The King looked at her sharply.

"You're too perceptive for your own good."

Again, silence.

Claire racked her brains for something to say.

"Are there dragons in the Underground?"

The King looked at her as though she'd sprouted horns.

"Well, I always like the idea of dragons, and this place has so many things I'd never before thought could exist so it didn't seem entirely unreasonable to..." Claire's babbling explanation was abruptly cut off when she found herself standing in a desert.

She stumbled in shock and a strong hand caught her elbow, steadying her.

"Look." The Goblin King pointed off to the distance, where the sun was sinking. Shapes darted and plunged in the sky; now soaring, now twisting. Claire shielded her eyes and squinted.

"Are those birds? They must be huge. They're not...they can't be..." Claire gaped at Jareth.

"Yes, those are dragons. I'd prefer not to get too close. We are not exactly on the best of terms."

"Indeed." Was call Claire could manage, and went back to staring at the shapes. Gradually her eyes grew used to the light and distance, and she discerned colours as bright as jewels and the sleek, power forms of the great reptiles.

"They're huge, yet so graceful." Breathed Claire.

"There are little ones too. Look." The King pointed to a small boulder a little way off. A shape on top – which Claire had taken to be a log – shifted and leaped off the rock. It skittered towards them. Claire gasped and backed into Jareth, who pushed her forward.

"Well, you said you wanted to see dragons, here's your chance."

"Not in so many words." Protested Claire. The dragon stopped a little way off. It wasn't bigger than a small cat if you didn't count the long tail. It was emerald green it's spines shone like glass. It tilted its head back and forth as it regarded them, and crept closer. Claire squatted down and held out a hand.

"Can they talk?" She asked, as the small creature sniffed her fingers. Claire giggled as it grabbed her hand in its claws and turned it over, examining her fingernails. It whistled, and the simple silver ring she wore lit up. The dragon chirruped, pleased with itself.

"No, only the large ones can talk, and they do so mind to mind. These little ones are supposed to be as smart, and can understand human and bird speech as well, but they can't talk, thank goodness."

"Why 'thank goodness?'" Asked Claire.

"Because they're silly creatures."

"You just don't like him because he likes me." The dragon was now perched on Claire's shoulder, examining her earrings. "Is it a baby?"

"No, this could be centuries old, but they never lose that immaturity, that puppy-like playfulness." Jareth's tone was one of disgust. The dragon blew a raspberry at Jareth, which made Claire smother a laugh.

Claire felt an odd pressure on her eardrums and an ache building up inside the front of her head. She frowned and rubbed her temples. The dragon stood on its hide legs and gave a call to the sky. It leaped off and spread its wings, zipping away.

Jareth leaped with inhuman speed and grabbed Claire, dragging her back and behind him.

"Hey! What's your -" Claire screamed as the air in front of her rippled, warped, and a shape emerged. The air throbbed and Claire clapped her hands over her ears, but stood facing this new threat. _No more cowering. _She told herself, gritting her teeth. She stood beside Jareth and snuck a glance at him.

His hair was blown back by the disruption, and his face was no longer human, but fierce and cold. His eyes shone with that power that had frightened Claire on many occasions. But Claire didn't cower. She raised her chin grimly and faced the strangeness.

A shape – huge and white – materialised. It was a dragon, of course. It glared down at the pair regally. Claire realised that it wasn't white, but iridescent, like mother-of-pearl. It's eyes were black and deep.

_Why have you come here, Jareth of the Underground? _A voice, if it could be called a voice, boomed inside Claire's skull. She closed her eyes briefly, tears leaking from them with pain. But her strong stance didn't falter. Kurt had taught her well.

To Claire's utter amazement, Jareth bowed.

"Lord Moonsphere. My intention is not to cause trouble in your lands. The Lady Claire expressed a desire to look upon the glory of your tribe."

Claire stepped forward and bowed, lower than Jareth, exposing the back of her neck in a gesture of trust and awe.

_Lady Claire. You are not of this world. Yet you carry the mark of strange and strong magic on you. You have looked upon the Elk King in his domain and lived, you carry the mark of a bird-kin, you walk like and elf and you are prisoner to the Goblin King. _He paused, tilting his magnificent head this way and that.

_You are more interesting than anyone I have encountered in centuries. You are welcome here, and I look forward to hearing your tale. _He turned his gaze toward Jareth.

_Because of this, Jareth of the Underground, I shall permit you on my lands again. But only by the grace of Lord Moonsphere. Do not abuse the privilege._

Jareth bowed again.

_Leave me now; I have business to attend to. But you- _he turned his gaze again to Claire, who met it gravely and proudly – _I shall expect you._

Mist gathered around the pair's feet, and Claire felt herself melting. A wave of dizziness overtook her, and she closed her eyes and threw out her hands to keep balanced. Her hands met velvet.

She was sitting back in her chair as though she'd never left.

"Did...did we just...dragons?" Was all Claire could manage. Jareth was again standing by the fire.

"Dragons. They're so...obnoxious." He muttered.

Claire gave a joyful laugh, clapped her hands, and jumped up.

"I just met a dragon! A dragon thinks I'm interesting. I love this place!" She danced around the room, almost hugged Jareth, thought better of it, danced some more, then plonked back down in her chair.

"Oh my. I can't believe it!" She grabbed her drink and took a swig.

"Ugh, it's cold. No no I still want it, it's fine!" She said, struggling against an invisible hand that tried to take the drink from her.

"Oh fine, if you must. What are you looking at?" The last part was directed at Jareth, who was now leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and watching her intently. He smiled lazily, and Claire's stomach flipped.

"You've been here for weeks, taken everything in your stride, then lose it over some _dragons?_" His smirk grew more pronounced. He sauntered over to Claire who sat, panting slightly from her exertions. She drew back, unsure of this Jareth. He leaned in close, his eyes narrowing.

"One day I'll figure out what makes you tick." He whispered.

Abruptly he turned away, and threw himself into his chair.

"You handled yourself remarkably well, by the way. Perhaps that stint with what's-his-name, the crippled one, has paid off."

Claire bristled at Jareth's dismissive attitude towards Kurt.

"Kurt is no more crippled than I am. He's a fine man and a great warrior, a great teacher."

"Oh really? Should I be finding someone to walk you down the aisle then?" His eyes glittered oddly, his tone strangely venomous.

"Oh don't be ridiculous. I look upon his as a brother, or teacher. And he looks upon me the same way."

"Hadrian perhaps. He's only good for show anyway. Though we might have a bit of a fight going on at the altar. He won't want to give you away. Ha! I'd pay a fortune to see it!" He went on, ignoring Claire's words. He laughed cruelly, and Claire was strangely hurt.

"Stop it! It's not funny. Hadrian just looks out for me because he doesn't trust you!" Claire said, aware that tears were beginning to prick her eyes. He ignored her, and continued to chuckle, staring manically at the fire.

Claire bit her lip to stop blurting out something that could get her or the tree people into trouble. She sat up straighter, turned on the neutral gaze that Kurt had taught her, saying it would help her focus and confuse her opponents. She stood, willing her movements to be sure and strong.

"Good night, your Highness. I think you for taking time in your busy schedule to make time to visit, and introduce me to Lord Moonsphere. Now if your Highness will excuse me, I ought now to retire." She bowed, rather than curtsied (because she had a rather childish idea that it might annoy him) and walked calmly from the room. As she left, she muttered, in a voice too low for human ears that he hadn't even told her the name of the drink.

Jareth though, was not human, and he heard perfectly. His stare softened and even felt a hint of remorse. Just a hint, because as we've noted, Jareth was not human.

"Damn the girl. Damn the girl and simple mystery. I'll bet there's nothing behind those wide eyes of hers, and I' wasting my time." She said to himself, and the fire danced and weaved in agreement.

"By Lord Moonsphere sensed it too, and the Elk King..." the fire wavered, mirroring Jareth's conflict.

Irritated, the Goblin King swiped a hand towards it, and the fire went out. A curl of smoke emerged from the ashes, weaving its way reproachfully towards the chimney. The Goblin King sighed, and knowing he should have returned to the council long ago, but wanting to delay as long as possible.

Suddenly, his dark grin returned. Instead of returning straight to the council, he returned to a certain desert to a certain green dragon to make a certain deal...

Claire marched partway to her room before sitting down abruptly on a conveniently placed chair.

As per usual after a meeting with the Goblin King, she was had three new questions for every thing she discovered about the goblin king.

So, he stayed because he was bored with his meeting. He'd practically told her, and it made sense. But why go to the effort of showing her the dragons at such personal risk, when she barely even expressed a desire to see them? Why did he find her behaviour and reactions to different things so fascinating? Why had he mocked her so cruelly?

She shook her head, making up her mind to forget it, to imagine that Jareth had never visited. But she smiled at the memory of the dragons, and treasured it.

That night, Claire dreamed that the little green dragon was sitting on her shoulder. It crooned in her ear, and the crooning became a song.

_Open your mind to me, for your mind is mine. _The melody was sweet, but the lyrics disturbing. She turned to the dragon, to tell it to sing something else. Instead of the cat-like eyes Claire expected, she was faced with odd coloured ones. This scared her senseless for some reason, and Claire sat up, her heart pounding. Moments later she forgot the dream, and slept on soundly.

* * *

Ooh, the excitement! So tell me what you think people. I always love thoughts, ideas, constructive criticism etc. The next chapter will be out in a few weeks to don't go too far :)


	14. Chapter 14 A Busy Morning For All

Hey people! Thank you to everyone who reviewed, your kind words make my day, and make me more inclined to write! I'm sorry thing took so long, I got really stuck with this chapter. I hope it all makes sense, please let me know if it's too fast-paced and confusing. I don't own Labyrinth, Jareth, Sarah, Stanley, Blanche or Streetcar Named Desire. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

Next morning Claire awoke to a fluttering noise by her head. With a gasp she sat up, and saw a winged piece of paper, hovering by her pillow. She grabbed it out of the air, hoping it was a letter from Hadrian. She sighed when she saw an ornate _JR _on the front. Jareth Rex. She opened it warily.

"Flying letters. That should worry me, I must be getting used to this place." She muttered, cracking the ornate green seal.

Inside was one word.

"Emrose?" Claire turned the letter over, but there was nothing else on the thick parchment. With a pop, a steaming mug appeared in the air before her. She took it from her little breeze, and sniffed it hesitantly. Of course! It was the name of drink that had caused Jareth's sudden appearance last night!

Claire laughed. Jareth hadn't forgotten. She also had a feeling this would be the only apology she'd get from him.

Claire bounced out of bed, dressed, and slammed open her door, screamed and slammed it shut again.

There was a dragon outside her room.

True, it was about the size of a cat, green, and chewing on one of her socks, but still!

An odd whistling noise sounded through the door. Claire opened it a crack, and peered through the gap. There stood the small dragon she'd met yesterday, a mauled sock in one clawed hand, perched on its hind legs, whistling like a kettle.

"Maybe I'm not as used to this as I thought." She muttered, opening the door a little more. She gasped as it jumped towards her, and then laughed as it twined around her legs, like a cat.

"Yeah, you're alright. Come on, little dragon. I want my breakfast. Come along if you like."

Claire started off down the hall again, and the dragon took off, gliding by Claire's shoulder as she made her way to the dining room.

"So my friend, I wonder what his Highness would have to say about you following us home?" The dragon chucked, and then perched on the back of a chair. He stood up straight on his hind legs, closed his eyes, and cleared his throat impressively. He railed one claw, as though about to declaim, and ruined the effect by making a very rude sound.

Claire fell into her chair, laughing.

"Oh I like you! I think we'll get along well."

Chortling, the dragon sailed off the chair and onto the table. On all fours now, it twined among the dishes full of breakfast foods that appeared. Claire's little breeze picked up a serviette and flapped it at the dragon, clearly distressed.

"Calm down! Now, dragon, you can't do that, you're upsetting my uh...friend, here. Come and sit, like a civilised dragon."

The dragon whistled again, and came and perched on the armrest of the chair next to Claire.

"You sound like the kettle we used to use when the power went out, and we couldn't use the electric jug. If you don't object, that's what I'll call you. Kettle. Is that okay?"

The dragon looked thoughtful. It clicked a few times, and then nodded.

* * *

Far away, the goblin king sat in his war room. His generals argued, and he ignored them. They'd bow to his words, as they always did. They were weak, and afraid of him, never making any decisions on their own. Instead, he peered into a crystal.

His expression was intent, but aside from that, an onlooker wouldn't have any idea what thoughts were going through his head.

"Soon." He muttered. He closed his fist, and the crystal popped with as little resistance as a soap bubble.

* * *

"Well Kettle, I'd better do some practice, or Kurt will have my hide when he sees me next." Claire said, as she trotted off to the gallery. Her steps faltered.

"I wonder when that will be?" She wasn't thinking about her sometime-mentor though. She wondered about another tree-man.

"Man I hope he doesn't hate me. Now wait, I shouldn't be worried. If he has a problem with his-royal-painfulness..." Claire paused, in case Jareth had been listening and objected to the name.

"...then he can, um, do something about it. Aaagh!" She ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. A trill distracted Claire from her circular self-debate. Kettle was clinging onto a fold in her dress, peering at her in concern.

"Oh, I'm alright. I'm just sick of being a damsel in distress. I mean, who am I kidding? Where have I got to go? What could I do? I live here, at the Goblin King's _generosity_. I can't look after myself in the Underground; I'm as useless as those silly princesses in fairy tales. Arrows and knives, self defence...what use are those against the _Prince of bloody Darkness _himself?" Aware that she was beginning to sound hysterical, Claire took a deep breath, and picked Kettle up. She cradled him in her arms, and petted him.

"You know Jareth, don't you?" Kettle mumbled a noise Claire took to be affirmative.

"Do you think he'd ever...hurt me?" Kettle didn't reply.

"He scares me, Kettle. He's not human, so who's to say he has the same morals? A conscience? _Humanity?_ And you know what? He's a man. I'm twenty years old kettle, and I've never let a man get close enough to kiss me, before Jareth took one from me that time. I don't think I trust them; Aunt Sarah was always so cynical about men. I think she unintentionally brainwashed me." Claire gave a nervous laugh.

"And he holds me in the palm of his hand. All I own in the world is a cloak, a bow and a quiver full of arrows. I am his. I hate that fact, but it's true."

Claire set Kettle down, picked up her bow, strung it with shaky fingers, and took aim and fired. Her hands were shaking, and the arrow skittered along the ground.

"As soon as this whole bloody mess is over I'm outta this ridiculous Labyrinth and back to the forest, if Jareth lets me. The tree-folk will let me live with them. Or Grandmother Fern will, at least."

She fired again. It went wide.

Cursing, Claire unstrung her bow.

Kettle chirruped enquiringly from where he was perched, on the ornate frame of a portrait.

"I don't know why I'm so worked up all of a sudden. But he scared me last night Kettle. One day he's going to blow up in my face and...eat me alive, or something."

"But you know the worst thing about it? I always look forward to when he...appears! He's exciting, the adrenaline rush is better than bungy jumping! He's terrifying, and exciting, and beautiful, in a strange way. I hate that I'm so weak! And then I think about Hadrian, and the way he looks at me...sometimes I think he loves me, but he's probably just being nice..."

Claire realised Kettle was looking distracted.

"I'm sorry to bore you with my worries. Look at me, agonising over men. Ridiculous. They'll both forget me in no time, and I'll be left to enjoy this beautiful world in peace! I'll visit Lord Moonsphere, and mind my own business...I guess having you to talk to after being here alone...and the fact that you can't actually tell anyone what I'm saying..." Claire's thoughts continued to whirl, until they were interrupted by a tug on her skirt.

Kettle was holding a grape up to her. He chirruped, looking concerned.

"Oh, you're very sweet. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine." Kettle reached up higher, insistent that she take his present.

"Oh, all right." Claire took the grape and popped it into her mouth, chewed it briefly, then swallowed. She'd never liked grapes, but she didn't want to hurt her new friend's feelings. The plump fruit bust in her moth, surprisingly sweet.

"Very nice Kettle, I feel so much better!" Claire assured Kettle, who still looked anxious.

Actually, Claire did feel better. Calm. Relaxed.

"Come here, you sweet thing!" Claire picked Kettle up again, and carried him over to a velvet couch. There they sat, Kettle purring like a cat, Claire petting him slowly. Her eyelids grew heavy. Her hand slowed. She rested her head on the plush headrest...

* * *

_Claire ran though the Labyrinth, her heart pounding. There! The Silver Gate was just ahead! She gave one more bust of speed..._

_Then skidded to a halt as Jareth stepped out in front of her. _

_He reclined on the wall, a lazy grin sat lopsided on his face. _

"_Well? You found it! Go ahead." He inclined to it with his head._

_Claire looked at the gate, at Jareth, at the gate. _

"_Move aside." She said, not trusting him. He wouldn't let her go that easy._

_He shifted one foot slightly, stood a little straighter. This didn't comfort Claire. He looked like he was about to pounce._

"_Go stand over there."_

_Claire looked at him, at the gate._

"_Oh. Oh you think I'll interfere with you, is that it?" Jareth shrugged himself off the wall, and stalked towards her. Claire drew back, wanted to get to the gate, afraid of the figure moving nearer. His posture was tense, like a lion about to strike. He stalked closer, excruciatingly slow._

"_Maybe you wouldn't be too bad to interfere with..."_

* * *

Many miles away, Jareth snapped his fingers, ending the spell. Claire jerked awake, not knowing that she'd even slept.

Jareth scowled furiously. That encounter was just a little too similar to the climactic scene from the play A Streetcar Named Desire.

"_Stanley?_ She equates me with _Stanley? _Oh honestly! I knew she enjoyed Tennessee Williams but that is ridiculous! Stanley? That...savage? And her, Blanche? I mean, at times she acts a slightly mad, but..."

Jareth threw himself into his chair. It was a leather affair, very ostentatious and manly. Jareth thought it made him look menacing, especially at night when the firelight flickered over his form. Jareth was nothing if not dramatic.

After a few minutes of fuming, Jareth summoned another crystal, and peered at Claire, making sure she hadn't remembered anything.

"What the..?"

Claire had found a cupboard full of bolts of cloth. She'd pulled them out and was spinning and twirling around the ballroom with one trailing after her. The dragon flew around the hall with another, soaring and dipping around Claire. And six others swirled around without visible hands to hold them. Jareth suspected that the spells he'd assigned to take care of the castle and serve Claire had taken a break from their duties to play this silly game.

With a tweak of magic, Jareth could now hear what was happening in the ballroom. Somehow Claire had persuaded the other spells to play Strauss waltzes for her.

Jareth scratched his head as he continued to watch she girl laugh and dance, looking like a small child playing dress-ups. Was this the same woman who has yesterday stood like a proud warrior queen before the Lord of Dragons?

"Mortals. Their minds work on strange ways; no wonder her addled mind equated me with _Stanley. _Streetcar Named Desire indeed! I'll need something better than the eaves-drop spell if I'm to find out anything conclusive...and not so _insulting..."_

"Well, Highness, you know what they say. Them that use the eaves-drop spell, see only things they wish they hadn't."

Jareth spun round. He was in his private sitting room; no one ever dared interrupt him there. The speaker was a young, defiant looking fey-woman. Her arm was held tightly by a nervous looking guard.

"Uh, begging your Highnesses' pardon, but you asked me to bring the Lady here. It took me slightly longer time to locate her than I had anticipated." He scowled at the woman, and gripped her arm tighter as though determined she wouldn't get away again.

Jareth stared at the pair for a moment. Shaking his head to bring him back to the present moment and this particular part of his plan, he waved the guard away.

The woman stood before Jareth (who by now had regained his swagger and circling the young woman and leering suggestively at her) with her head held high. But she couldn't hide the shaking in her hands. She clasped them before her, and bit her lip.

"Well well well. Lady Amber. You father has been a naughty boy, hasn't he? By law, I have every right to execute every member of his household, right down to the last dog." The breath in Lady Amber's throat caught, but her expression didn't waver.

"But I have a more interesting punishment for you."

A whimper escaped her. Too soft for human ears, but Jareth heard it, and laughed.

"Or shall we call it...an opportunity? Succeed with this, and I may even save your father from the punishment we reserve for _traitors_." He spat the last word, making Lady Amber flinch. His eyes blazed for a moment, before his inane but disturbing smile returned

" Wouldn't that be just...lovely?"

* * *

Claire was in the middle of redecorating the ballroom. Lengths of cloth hung from every available surface.

"No no, I think the green silk would look better over the door." Kettle obligingly took the end of the cloth and flew to the door, the cloth unwinding behind him.

A loud bang and puff of glittery smoke startled the group. The breezes shot out the door, Kettle shrieked and flew up to hide in the chandelier, and Claire gaped as the goblin king appeared. Holding a struggling young woman by her arms.

"Here you go Sweetheart. I brought you a present."

He thrust the young woman forward. She tripped on her gown, and Claire jumped forward to catch her.

"Wait, what are you talking about?" Claire spluttered, steadying the sobbing girl, who looked ready to collapse.

"You told me you were lonely. I brought you a companion."

"You can't go round giving people as presents!" An outraged Claire exclaimed.

"That girl has a death sentence hanging over her head." The King stepped menacingly towards the pair.

"Call it an act of mercy if you will." He grinned maniacally at the stranger, who hid her head on Claire's shoulder.

"Stop it, you're scaring her!" Claire burst, unable to contain herself. Her anger fizzled as Jareth turned his feral gaze on her.

"Take care, Sweet Heart. Things are heating up out there. Be careful you don't say the wrong thing to me. I might get upset, and do something you, I, and that _elf-prince_ regret." Claire gasped at the venom in his voice, and tightened her grip on the shuddering young woman.

"Jareth, I..." Claire trailed off as the Goblin king turned away sharply and disappeared.

Just outside the castle, Jareth reappeared. He leaned against the wall and let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding.

He cursed himself for letting his emotions run away with him. That was not how he meant to do this at all! He remembered the hurt in her eyes, and the way she said his name...

"That girl...she'll be the ruin of me." He muttered.

Moments later, an owl soared away from the place where he'd stood.

* * *

Inside, Claire and the young woman stood a little apart, staring at each other mistrustingly.

Kettle soared down from the chandelier, and landed on Claire's shoulder, making the other woman jump back in fear.

"Um, hello. My name's Claire. And you are..?"

* * *

-If you haven't read/seen A Streetcar Named Desire, please do so. Enjoyed? Hated? Tell me why! Any mistakes or suggestions pointed out will also earn you my eternal love and devotion. :) -


	15. Chapter 15 Dragon, Mortal, Fae

Oh wow, this has taken forever and I'm so sorry to everyone who has been waiting for it! I blame writers block, this went no where for ages! But I'm back on track, and I thank everyone for their patience. Please continue to leave feedback/suggestions/corrections, and I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Lady Amber threw herself at Claire. For a moment Claire thought she was being attacked, and went to jump back, but the newcomer burst into tears and told her a very confusing story, interspersed with much hiccupping, sniffling, nose blowing and dramatic sighs.

"Let me see if I've got this straight," said Claire. They were now sitting on the window seat. She handed Kettle yet another sodden handkerchief. The dragon blew a soft raspberry and rolled its copper-coloured eyes, but scuttled off to dispose of it and find a new one.

"Your father was on the war council with his Highness and the diplomatic envoy to the Tree-People, right? But he was secretly in negotiations with a group of Tree-People, yes? They wanted to significantly reduce the restrictions placed on the Tree People in return for a faster negotiation process. Right?"

"Yes, His Highness sees this as treason, but he was doing it for the good of both our people! My father is one of the few court members who are against the subjugation of the Elvish folk. Fae and elves can live in peace, and mutually benefit from the alliance! They are just as advanced as we, in their own way and..."

"Hey you don't have to convince me!" Claire gently interrupted the flow.

"I'm exiled here for siding with them after they snatched me from one of Jareth's castles, remember? And one saved my life, I'm as 'for' them as anyone around here...at least, I think that's why I'm here. I assume His Highness thought I'd stay out of trouble if he put me in solitary confinement. "

Lady Amber regarded her with wide eyes, momentarily distracted from her tears.

"Really? You did get stolen? I thought those were just rumours! I heard that Prince Hadrian stormed into the castle on the back of a winged steed, struck out at His Highness with a bolt of lightning and seized you up before blasting a hole in the roof and flying away, with you kicking and screaming and calling for His Highness to place a curse on the head of your ravagers..."

"Whoa it wasn't quite that dramatic! Actually, compared to that series of events it now seems quite tame." Claire interrupted again, laughed.

"Hadrian simply appeared into the hall as I was being presented, grabbed me, and we disappeared. His Highness did enchant my necklace though." She flicked it absentmindedly. It had annoyed her a bit lately; it went warm and cold very rapidly, making her spine tingle. She wondered what it meant, was its power waxing or waning?

"And there was no, um, ravaging." Claire added, blushing.

"Oh it must have been so exciting!" Sighed the fae woman. She leaned back against the window, and gazed up at the afternoon sky. She made a very pretty picture, with tears still clinging to her eyelashes and clutching yet another handkerchief to her embroidered bodice. Her face was angular and Other, like Jareth's. But she had softer lips, and her lily-white hands and soft limbs were far less threatening than Jareth's powerful physique. Yet her eyes were still slightly alien, and Claire had a feeling that she could muster power when she needed to.

Claire regarded her sceptically, and wondered aloud how being kidnapped was exciting.

"Oh, but Prince Hadrian is said to a most handsome man, with a voice like velvet. He has the hands of a healer, but is forced to defend his people and wear the clothes of a warrior. He is tortured with this conflict and his hair has turned snow white from the strain, but his brow is pure and his eyes clear even so! He has a fierce temper and can turn a man to stone with his gaze. He..."

"Okay, okay! Clearly you've never met the man!" Claire laughed. She enjoyed this girl's enthusiasm already. Clearly she was young and enjoyed gossip. The stories circulating the fae court sounded outrageous, and they clearly knew little of what went on the rest of the Underground.

"Well, what's he really like then? Is it true he saved your life when you were being poisoned? That he healed you? That His Highness exiled him because he'd fallen in love with you and was planning to carry you off to Emrald?"

"Um, not quite, I mean, aspects of that are...close to the truth, but um..." Claire mumbled.

"He notified His Highness that I was ill, and looked after me while I recovered. But I wasn't aware that he was exiled, and I'm pretty sure he wasn't in love with me." Claire finished, blushing.

"Oh, how disappointing. I think I prefer the songs. _The Elf-Prince and the Lady of the World Above_ is my favourite, but _The Carrying-off of the King's Guest _is quite amusing too..."

"You have _songs_ about me?" Spluttered Claire.

Amber giggled. "Of course! Prince Hadrian is the most infamous of all the tree-folk, all the young ladies at court sigh after him. And _you're_ something of a mystery. The young lady who caught the king's eye! I can't wait to tell everyone that I've actually _met_ you and all these new stories about the Prince when I get back-" Lady Amber's smile faltered, and Claire quickly thought of a topic to distract her.

"Um, are you hungry? I'm starving. Shall we see if dinner's ready?" Claire pulled her guest up and hurried her away to the dining room.

"Should we not go and attire ourselves more appropriately for dinner?" Protested Lady Amber. Claire paused.

"Well, if you want to. There just doesn't seem to be much point. I mean it's only you, me and Kettle. And the breezes, but I don't think they'll get offended..."

"What's that noise?" Amber interrupted this time, her gaze sharpening. Her shoulders tensed as she looked around. Claire listened, and heard an odd whistling and clattering.

"Sounds a bit like Kettle? Oh what's he up to now OOPH!"

Kettle whizzed into the room, perusing a white fluffy object that flew straight at Claire and landed with a soft _whoomph._

"Kettle get off! You can't chase birds round here. They're my friends!" Claire cried as she held the owl – for that's what the white thing was – out of Kettles reach.

Kettle blew a raspberry at Claire, flew up to the chandelier, and studiously ignored them.

"Sorry about that, after all your trouble for me that's not the best welcome." Murmured Claire, trying to calm the frightened owl. She walked over to a chair and allowed the bird to climb out of her arms to perch on the back.

"Um, Claire...are you sure that's not _eek_!" Lady Amber began, then squeeked in dismay as the owl turned to look at her. She thought the owl was Jareth.

"No no, this is a friend of mine. He's been off doing me a favour." Claire replied with a small smile, as she stroked the bird's silky feathers.

The owl replied, somewhat huffily, that there was a letter tied to its leg, and that he would be much obliged if she would remove it.

"A letter! Oh thank you so much. Was Hadrian very hard to find?" Claire gently removed the letter and clutched it in her hand.

I'm afraid my abrupt appearance at his window in the middle of the day startled him somewhat. Luckily I dodged the inkwell he tossed at me and managed to convey your message.

"Oh dear, I expect he thought you were His Highness as well."

Indeed. Now if you will excuse me, I should like to take a nap. All this flying around at day has confused my inner clock immensely.

"Thank you so much, I am in your debt. If you ever need a human voice, I am at your service."

Claire bowed her head as the graceful teacher took off.

Claire took a deep breath, then opened her hand. It was a tightly rolled slip of parchment. She unrolled it carefully and held it open.

_Claire, _it read.

_I am so relieved to know that you're alright. The owl says Jareth has left you alone, you cannot imagine how frantic I was for your safety after that departure you made._

Claire winced and turned bright red.

_We're been having peace talks with the fae, so the fighting has been minimum. I'm not allowed to attend – for obvious reasons – but father promises you won't be forgotten. He tells me not to assume you wish to return here, but I hope very much that you do. I feel sure we'll meet again soon._

_Stay safe._

The writing was small and cramped; a few blots obscured some words. He must have been very agitated when he wrote it.

Claire frowned. He said he was sure they'd meet again. Soon. Was that a vague hope, or a carefully worded warning that he'd be attempting to see her? If she was honest, Claire was desperate to see him. But she also knew Jareth wouldn't be as lenient with him for future treasons, and worried for his safety.

Claire realised she was running her fingers over the last few words, and smiling mistily. She shook her head sharply and stuck it in her pocket.

"Was that from one of the Tree-People? From...him?" Amber gave an excited squeak.

"Yes, he was worried about me after I left. Jareth ki...uh, Hadrian doesn't trust His Highness.

"Jareth what?" asked Amber slyly, then gasped.

"I heard that he...he didn't _actually_..."

"Come on, let's go and get some food." Interrupted Claire hastily. She grabbed Amber's hand and pulled her to the door, Amber giggling all the way.

* * *

That night Claire sat on her window seat and gazed out at her new friend, who paced around the garden's walls. Her hair and skin glowed eerily in the moonlight. Her gown was creased from all the times she wrung it in her hands. Claire struggled with her sympathy, wanting to run out and say some words of comfort.

She'd been in high spirits at dinner, though Claire now suspected she was simply over-excited by the day's events. As the evening wore on, Amber had become quieter and quieter, finally excusing herself.

Now she paced, occasionally stopping and staring at the walls that surrounded their garden. This garden backed on to the Labyrinth. Claire had found that on the other side of the castle lay an ominous, twisted forest. It was as though the castle had been tacked onto the edge of the Labyrinth as an afterthought. Claire had briefly considered that maybe Jareth had built it just for her, but shied away from the idea. A castle, built just her? No way.

* * *

The next morning Claire found pale Amber already at the breakfast table. Kettle was sitting next to her chair, looking concerned, occasionally whistling softly and enquiringly at her. The Lady was shredding her bread roll into little bits as she stared absentmindedly at a steaming jug of coffee. If Claire had doubted her tale about being exiled and not knowing her father's fate, thinking perhaps she might have concocted that tale to spy on her, she couldn't believe that now.

"Rough night?" Asked Claire gently as she seated herself. Lady Amber jumped, not having noticed Claire enter the room.

"Oh, I fretted a little for my father, but your hospitality is most excellent." Amber replied diplomatically. Claire raised her eyebrow and shot the woman an amused glance.

"You can thank His Highness, or these random invisible servants. I haven't lifted a finger since I arrived."

Amber looked at Claire, slightly askance, and then relaxed. Claire was relieved; she wouldn't have been able to stand a ridiculous, courtly politeness with this girl. She wanted a friend, and suspected that was what Amber needed too.

"Is there anything in particular you'd like for breakfast? The breezes seem to be able to find anything I ask for."

"Hm...some grapes? I am fond of them, and we don't get them a lot at home."

Claire looked at the fruit platter.

"Well there's none here, but Kettle had a bowl of them yesterday. Where are they Kettle? Oh, they're over here on the...hey! What did you do that for?" Kettle had zoomed over to the sideboard, scooped up the grapes and flown up to perch on the chandelier.

"That's not nice, you share those right now!"

Claire scowled up at the small reptile, who was gazing back down at her. He didn't look devilish or amused with himself. In fact, he looked more apologetic than anything.

"Claire, if he wants them he can keep them. Grapes are notoriously easy to enchant, so are peaches and pomegranates, so watch out for those. Perhaps there's something wrong with them?"

"But I ate some yesterday! He's just being naughty."

"Yesterday? About noon? I..." Amber started to say something else, but stopped, biting her lip.

"What?" asked Claire suspiciously.

"I...I should like to tell you..." Amber looked around nervously. Claire gritted her teeth.

"You're afraid of _Him_, aren't you? _He _did something to my grapes. Damn him! Can't he ever leave me alone?" Spat Claire.

Amber looked quite frightened.

"I'm not mad at you." Claire assured her, but she struggled to control herself. She wanted to shake the girl and make her tell everything. But the sensible part of her brain told her Amber had much more at stake than she did.

"Wait, is that why Jar...His Highness was so angry at me yesterday?"

Amber pushed her chair away from the table, looking around, and a sweat breaking out on her forehead.

"I can't...please! He'd..." Amber stammered, her brow furrowed with fear and remorse. Claire took this as a 'yes.' Suddenly Amber gave a small scream and fell to her knees, bowing her head and trembling.

Claire gritted her teeth and turned slowly in her seat, knowing who she'd see behind her. He sat sprawled in a chair, his feet on the table, and gazed at the trembling Amber with a stare that was both intense and lazy.

"Your table manners are atrocious." Claire remarked, trying to stay calm. She was still raging mad at him (though she wasn't sure what he'd actually done), but there was no way to deny that his presence was terrifying.

Jareth glanced up to where Kettle was still sitting on the chandelier.

"You're a terrible mole, my friend." Jareth noted. Kettle was apparently unafraid of the Goblin's King, and responded by aiming a grape at his head. It disappeared with a _pop!_ a few inches from Jareth's brow.

"I'm afraid you'll have to leave now, my Sweetheart seems a little put out."

"Hey, I thought this place was mine. He can stay if he wants." Claire decided to ignore the fact that he'd just referred to her as _my sweetheart_, not quite knowing how to respond.

"Ah, so you'd prefer to throw _me _out, would you? Tsk tsk Sweetheart, that's not very hospitable. And I, the one who gifted it to you in the first place!" His unconcerned tone irritated Claire even more, dispelling some of her fear.

"Pfft, yeah. Call it a gift, if that makes you feel better for holding me ransom here. _And_ then proceeding to fill it with spies." She shot a glance at Kettle, who had the good grace to look slightly ashamed. He hid his face behind a candle stick.

"Ransom? Sweetheart! You know it's for your own protection!" He suddenly disappeared and reappeared by her other side, making her gasp and jump around. He leaned in close to her face, clucking her under the chin. She jerked her head away from his touch. She now wished she'd stood when he came in, some height would be an advantage here, she was also trapped by the handles of the chair, and Jareth's grip kept her from pushing the chair from the table.

"We wouldn't want the nasty Tree-Rats to kidnap you again, would we?"

"Don't call them that! They're supposed to be your people too. And you know why Hadrian did that, stop acting like I'm a five year old."

Jareth laughed, and sat on the table next to her chair. He put his foot on the arm of her chair.

"Hadrian is a fool. He should know better than to try to take what is mine."

"I am not yours!" Protested Claire without thinking.

Moving faster than a snake, Jareth had shoved her chair away from the table. With one had on either arm rest, he now trapped her in her chair with his body, his face dizzyingly close to hers.

Claire vaguely registered a gasp from Amber, but most of her brain was frozen in fear. Jareth's eyes bore into hers. His eyes were deeper than wells, and the colours seemed to write and twist like nightmare creatures. He moved his lips to her ear, brushing it softly with every word.

"But you are, Sweetheart. You traded your life for your brother's, and you are mine to do with as I will. By all the laws of magic, this is so." As quickly as he'd come, Jareth had moved away, and now sat on the table before Amber. She was now on her feet, unsure whether to flee or try to aid Claire, who was still frozen in shock. Her ear buzzed, as though Jareth's lips contained electricity.

"What do you think of your present, Sweetheart? Shall she make a fine companion? If not, she can be disposed of." Amber paled visibly, and swayed on her feet. His cruelty shocked Claire out of her petrified state.

"Stop it! You're being weird!" Perhaps it was not Claire's most eloquent moment, but it was heartfelt nonetheless.

"And stop calling me Sweetheart!" She went on stupidly, when no reply was forthcoming.

"What do you want, Goblin King? To scare us? Well, you've succeeded! So feel free to be on your way!"

"Scare you, Sweetheart? Not at all. Surely I can pay a visit to my favourite prisoner, if that is how you insist on seeing yourself? But if my presence awes you too much, I shall withdraw, of course." He began to fade, slowly; his eyes remaining after the rest had gone.

"I feel sure we shall meet again soon." He was gone.

* * *

Claire spent the next fifteen minutes trying to calm a hysterical Lady Amber. One jug of ice-cold water and several face-slaps later, Claire and a rather damp Amber sat at the table. Kettle was curled up on the same seat as Claire, still looking thoroughly ashamed.

They were all silent. Lady Amber shivered slightly, contemplating the morning's events. She had really thought her hours were numbered, and half feared a hoard of goblins would suddenly bust in and drag her off to the gallows at any moment.

Claire kept hearing Jareth's departing words in her head.

_I feel sure we shall meet again soon._

Exactly the words Hadrian had used. A coincidence? Or was Jareth taunting her, hinting that he knew something?

One thing Claire was certain of: she couldn't wait around here any longer. Jareth couldn't be trusted, he seemed so different to the man she knew on her first weeks in the Underground. The stakes were higher, and so was the risk. She no longer felt sure that he wouldn't hurt her. Abruptly, Claire spoke.

"Amber, I'm leaving. Do you want to come?"

"Leaving? But where will you go?"

"I don't know. Anywhere. The elves will give us both sanctuary if we can make it to their territory."

Amber barely hesitated before she gave a sharp nod. She seemed harder, more aware, since Jareth's frightening visit.

Claire half-ran as she demanded a much more practical change of clothes from her personal breeze. She grabbed her bow and quiver, and slung Hadrian's cloak over her shoulders.

Amber met her at the door, her hair severely tired back and armed to the teeth, Kettle on her shoulder. Claire was astounded by the change in her demeanour. They walked out the door together: the fae woman, the mortal girl and the dragon.

* * *

Jareth surveyed the scene in a crystal ball. It was an image straight from legends.

He has miscalculated. He _had_ wanted to scare the three into fearful submission, contrary to his earlier claim. Instead, he'd stirred them to action.

He smiled crookedly, absurdly proud of Claire. She wasn't one to bow to him, even in the face of her fear of him. And she did fear him, he knew. That type of bravery was of far more worth, in his opinion, than dumb bravado.

His smile faded as he watched them walk. If they headed to the Labyrinth, they'd need all the courage they could muster. Even he could do little for them there.


	16. Chapter 16 Summoning

Hi people! If anyone is still reading his I'll be surprised, it's been a ridiculous amount of time since I last uploaded and I do apologise. Life is just too hectic! I have too many ideas about where this should go, so I'd be grateful for suggestions of what you want to see more or less of, and any other constructive criticisms you might have. As always, I don't own Jareth (more's the pity) or Labyrinth, but anyone you don't recognise is mine. Enjoy!

* * *

As they strode across the garden, Amber asked her friend where they were going and how they planned on getting there.

"I have a feeling these walls can't simply be jumped over, so we'll go wherever this gate takes us." Claire replied, gesturing to the gate that lay in the wall ahead of them.

"What gate?" Amber asked, her steps slowing.

"That one just ahead! Can't you – oh." Claire remembered her odd ability to see through enchantment.

"It must be hidden from your eyes. It's here; I'll open it and pull you through."

"What? Why can you see it and I can't?"

"It's a long and dull story, but his Highness accidentally gave me the ability."

"Huh, I didn't know he made mistakes until you came along." Muttered the fae woman. Claire decided to ignore that comment.

Claire put two hands against the wooden door and pushed. It gave a little, so she put her shoulder up against it and pushed some more. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Amber reach out a tentative hand and touch it.

"Claire are you sure? This feels like stone to me."

"Well _somebody _is playing tricks on one of us. And since this is opening..." with one last shove, the door swung open and Claire fell through. Amber shrieked.

"Where are you? How did you do that?" She called, beating her hands against what looked to Claire like empty air.

"Close your eyes." Said Claire. Amber's eyes searched the air around Claire, frightened and wary.

"What? Who said that? Claire, is that really you?"

"If it was someone pretending to be me would I admit it?" Snapped Claire. She didn't like being invisible, it was creepy.

"Now close your eyes and hold out your hand."

"Why do you -ACK!" Amber's question was cut off as Claire quickly pulled her through the gateway.

They tumbled over each other into the dusty path. Amber was on her feet within moments, her eyes darting around and her stance ready for a fight. Claire grumbled and got to her feet a lot less gracefully.

They were on a sandy path. On one side was the wall to the castle garden, on the other was a grassy courtyard. Rosebushes with huge orange blooms dotted the lawn, and it was bordered with high stone walls.

"This isn't very...Labyrinth-like." Amber stated after they had both stared at the courtyard for a while.

"So you haven't been here before then?" Claire asked absently.

"Of course not." Replied Amber, sounding scandalised. "I wasn't always an outlaw."

"So we've got out of one garden only to get stuck in another. This is a marvellous start." Drawled Claire after another silence. "So much for our charging into the Labyrinth, ready to defeat anything in our paths." Claire waved her arms about in frustration.

"Enough of the theatricals." Amber sounded surprisingly stern and practical. "I'm going to go and look at the flowers."

"Why?" Asked Claire, irritably.

"Because I like roses. These are odd, but the scent is divine, I can smell them from here! Oh isn't that odd? The petals are transparent..." Amber chattered as she trotted over to the nearest bush.

"Hey, where's Kettle?" Claire looked around and called for the small dragon. Paused and listened – an odd chattering sounded from the other side of the wall. She called again, and with a _pop,_ Kettle appeared at her feet, making Claire jump back in fright.

Kettle scolded her in a variety of whistles, and then twined around her feet like a cat.

"I'm forgiven for disappearing then?" asked Claire, drily. The dragon jumped onto her shoulder, and purred in her ear.

"Amber look who decided to...uh oh." Amber was now gone. The courtyard empty apart from the rose bush. The orange blooms bobbed gently in the breeze.

"Great, how on earth did she do that?" muttered Claire, as she made her way warily onto the grass. Kettle made an enquiring noise.

"I have no idea, she just went to look at the roses and I got distracted by yo..." Claire looked at the dragon suspiciously.

"You didn't have anything to do with this, did you?"

Kettle made a disgruntled growl and hid under a bush.

"Okay okay, I'm sorry! But you can't blame me for wondering..." muttered Claire, stepping carefully over to the rose bush.

"She was talking about the petals, how they were..._transparent?_" Claire muttered, and held out her hand to one. And so they were. They also seemed to flicker strangely. She could feel heat radiating from them.

"Fire roses. How romantic." Claire muttered. She turned around and beckoned to Kettle.

"Come on, if my estimation is correct then touching these will do something dramatic, like make us disappear." The dragon peered out from his bush sullenly.

"Unless you'd rather stay here and sulk?"

The dragon flew to her shoulder, whistled sharply and clung to her ear for safety.

"Okay, here we go..."

Claire stumbled back in shock, assaulted by a wave of noise and stench of an angry mob of peasants. She clapped her hands to hear ears and tried to gain her footing, crying out as elbows and knees caught her. The dragon tried to bury itself in her hair, keening in fright. The people around her kept her upright, but bore her around like a twig on a rough stream. They were big, strong and very angry. The tension in the air made Claire sweat and she wondered desperately where Amber was.

Was she even here? Had they been taken to different places? Suddenly she became aware of what the people around her were shouting.

"Kill the traitor's daughter! Cut down the rotten tree! Kill the traitor's daughter!"

"No, no, please no!" said Claire as realisation dawned on her. She struggled to see above the crowd, scrambling to get free. But she could barely tell which was up, let alone where the attention of the crowd was focussed.

"Kettle! Fly up and direct me! I have to get to Amber!" The dragon launched itself upward, only too happy to escape the boiling mass of flesh and sweat.

After two broken fingers, a smashed foot, a bruised eye, kicked shin and a ripped sleeve later, Claire made it to the front.

"Will no one speak for the girl? Will no one defend her?" A man cried mockingly, gesturing to a figure kneeling on the stage.

Amber, stripped of weapons and looking as battered as Claire, was tied up next to a gallows. Her face was white and her eyes blank with terror.

"Or would it be..._kinder, _perhaps_, _to prune the family tree of the rotten branches?" The crowd roared.

Claire threw herself up the stairs before anyone could stop her.

_Goblin King, give me a voice_ she cried internally. Whether he heard or not Claire never knew.

"Stop!" The word was not a shout, but it filled the dusty village square as though they were standing inside a bell. As if the sound turned the air to honey, the crowd slowed to a stop.

Silence filled the square, and the mob turned its gaze upon Claire.

She never faltered. Their gaze gave her power.

"I know nothing of treachery. But that woman is mine. Jareth, Lord of the Underground, presented her to me himself. I do not authorise her death. You will release her and return her to me." Her voice was pitched perfectly so that it flowed effortlessly around the square.

Kettle shot out of the sky like a falcon, stopped sharply, then sat on her shoulder, shining with solemn dignity. Had Claire seen him she might have come to realise exactly what Jareth meant when he said that the small dragon could be hundreds of year old. He lent awe to Claire's figure. Her hair was a bird's nest, her dress was torn and her body bruised, but no one could mistake the authority that shone from within her. No one would guess that just a day before the two had been dancing and playing with bits of cloth like two small children.

Claire didn't speak again, even as they gaped at her. She knew that the fewer words she used, the more power they would have. She just waited for them to obey her words, with not a hint of doubt that they would be obeyed. At last, the leader drew his knife. Claire stiffened but remained silent. Amber didn't seem to notice. She knelt on the stage, staring into space with a look of terror masking her face.

But the man simply cut the rope that bound Amber's hands behind her back. The crowd shifted nervously, but didn't protest. Claire wanted desperately to help her friend as she staggered to her feet and limped towards her. But she remained as she was: still and proud, like a queen waiting for her orders to be obeyed.

Amber took position next to Claire, slightly behind her. Claire lifted one hand and gripped the leaf pendent she was forced to wear.

_Goblin King, you'd better get me out of this._ She said. Her internal voice was shaky but determined. After what seemed an age and drops of sweat started forming on her brow, the emerald in Claire's hand begin to glow green. It shone brighter and brighter until the mob began to shield their faces. When all Claire could see was green she felt an arm circle her waist and pull her close.

"Trust you to take advantage of the situation." Muttered Claire, knowing who it was. Her words were swept away as the ground disappeared and she again felt the unpleasant sensation of being pulled through time and space.

* * *

This time their arrival was gentle. The Labyrinth appeared gradually, and at last Claire was able to step away from the goblin King's embrace. He kept hold of her arm though, and pulled her around to face him.

"Where are you hurt?" He demanded.

"Wait, where the hell is Amber?" Claire began to panic, pulling her arm away. The Goblin King brushed aside the comment.

"I sent her to her father, they're under house arrest. I was going to use her to spy on you, but I have a feeling her loyalties will now be in conflict. Now, where are you hurt?"

"Huh! So much for my companion! You just wanted a spy and now that she can't do that you send her away. Mean." Claire scowled childishly, not wanting to let on how much pain she was in now that she had a solid form again.

"Dammit girl! Not everything is about you! I couldn't release her from our deal, it was bound under ancient magic that I cannot touch. She would be in constant fear that her father would be at risk if she didn't spy on you, but I imagine that she would feel enormous guilt for spying on you after what you just did!"

Claire gaped at him.

"If she can't see you, or know what you're doing, then she isn't going against our bargain, is she?" The Goblin King laughed spitefully...or was it bitterly, regretfully?

"You find it inconceivable that I can be _fair_, don't you?"

He turned away, and put on foot on the rim of a fountain Claire was sure hadn't been there moments ago. He lean his elbow on his knee, the very picture of an injured or betrayed lover.

Despite her mortification, Claire felt a small measure of amusement at his theatrics. She didn't doubt though, that it was genuinely felt to a certain degree. Hesitantly, she stepped towards him, limping on her crushed foot. She sat down beside him on the fountain, not looking at him.

"You right, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be so quick to cast you as a villain, even if it has been my experience of you thus far." She added, a little reproachfully.

Jareth took the hand with the broken finger carefully, and rubbed a gloved thumb over them, feather light. The bones popped back into place. Claire yanked her hand away.

"Did it hurt? It shouldn't have." Jareth looked slightly alarmed. "You've gone awfully green."

"It didn't hurt. But it felt...wrong." Claire concentrated on standing up, the ground seemed to be beckoning her, and the edges of her vision were going dark.

"I'm either going to be sick, or faint." She said decisively.

"Couldn't you pick on or the other? I don't know whether I'm meant to catch you or jump out of the way." Jareth said uneasily. It was the first time Claire had seen him look unsure, and if she didn't feel so odd she might have laughed.

"Okay. Faint it is then." And she promptly did so.

Jareth was good at catching fainting ladies, and he did so easily. The girl was surprisingly light. The battered girl in his arms was nothing like the warrior-queen who had stood before the mob just moments ago. Jareth felt momentarily awed that such nobility and power could reside in such a frail shell.

"Such a Sweet Heart, so easily broken." He murmured. Gathering Claire up in his arms, he wished them away.


	17. Chapter 17 In Dreams

Wowwww...long time, no updates. Hopefully I'll update a bit more regularly now, but no promises. Enjoy!

* * *

"I'll have you know," Claire said groggily, as the world swam back into focus, "that I never fainted before I came here. Something in the water, I expect."

"Or it could be my dazzling presence." Replied Jareth, amused, from a little way off.

Claire found herself reclining on the seat by the stream and birch tree. It was the same one that Jareth had found her napping under when she was still ill, and promised to discover her secrets. Jareth noted that the more he found out about the mortal, the less he seemed to know her. He wondered if all mortals were that interesting, or whether it was just this one that he had happened upon. If Claire had been any more awake she might have wondered the same about him.

"Are you going to keep me here again?" Asked Claire wistfully, sitting up gingerly.

"Well, solitary confinement doesn't seem to suit you. Maybe you'll get into less mischief with a few more people around to keep an eye on you."

Claire looked away, but the Goblin King's uncanny ears detected that she was grinding her teeth.

"Tell me," Jareth began, remembering the first conversation he and Hadrian had had over Claire's fate. "Would you rather be dead than a prisoner? Would you rather have died Aboveground with your family than come here as my possession?" The King's voice was remote and cold. Claire didn't look at him. She felt suddenly afraid, as she always did when reminded of Jareth's lack of humanity.

"Perhaps once I thought that. When I first came here and thought myself to be slowly dying without anyone around me knowing or caring. And no child of the time and place that I come from can ever rest easily knowing that they are someone else's possession." Claire paused, thinking.

"I may rebel against it internally, but I am. Owned by you, I mean. I know that, and hate it." Claire sighed slightly.

"But I have friends now. I've seen amazing things. Terrible and amazing things. I can speak to birds; I have met the Elk King and a great Dragon. I have saved the life of a friend and heard such beautiful music. So I suppose, at the end of the day…this isn't what I would have chosen, and I still wonder whether I did the right thing. But there is some good here."

Claire's voice was soft, she spoke mostly to herself. The words tumbled out as they came to her; she'd never allowed herself to consider these things before.

Then they sat silently.

Jareth hadn't moved or reacted as she spoke, as cold and remote as a stone idol.

Claire sat up straighter, untwisting her gown from around her legs and running her fingers though her hair. Her finger caught on the leaf necklace and she tore it off out of habit, dropping it on the ground.

"I wish you wouldn't do that." Muttered Jareth, distracted. "It's distracting."

"You mean you know every time I pull this off and it magically appears around my neck again?" Asked Claire. She considered this thoughtfully.

"Perhaps I shouldn't have mentioned that." Jareth replied, amused again.

They both lapsed into silence, but a comfortable one. A sudden, surprisingly strong breeze snapped Claire from her reverie.

"You should go in." Said Jareth, looking at the sky. Bruise-blue clouds hurried across it, obscuring the sun. "It's going to rain."

"You're telling me you don't control the weather?" Asked Claire, genuinely curious.

"I could, but it's best to leave it be. And these kinds of storms…well, they're not entirely canny. It would not be in anyone's best interests to interfere."

"Alright. But I make no guarantees for good behaviour while I'm here." Claire replied flippantly, gathering herself to go indoors. Jareth had already faded, but his voice murmured in her ear as she skuttled indoors to escape the rain.

"I expect nothing less, sweetheart."

Claire liked rain in general. She had grown up in a drought, so sitting in a window and watching rain patter across the pavers was something of a novelty. But three days later she was thoroughly sick of staying indoors with nothing to do. Claire couldn't decide whether Jareth had forbidden the servants from talking to her or whether her reputation as a dangerous tree-folk spy had preceded her. Whatever the reason, the household servants avoided Claire like the plague. She'd given herself blisters with endless rounds of archery and become bored with the small library.

"I'm bored. I wish Kettle were here, or Amber, or Grandmother Fern, or Kurt, or Hadrian, or Sam…" Claire blinked. It was the first time she'd thought of her brother in a long time. Guilt shot through her and she curled up on her window seat, biting back tears. She closed her eyes and pictured her family as she remembered them, sitting at the round table in the kitchen, playing Jenga or monopoly or Balderdash. Immersed in those bittersweet memories, Claire drifted off to sleep. She dreamed…

Claire was standing in the kitchen of the house they'd lived in til she was about 12, when they'd moved to the city to be closer to Claire's hospital. There was a different kitchen table and different pictures on the walls. She wasn't in any of them. Her mother bustled at the kitchen sink, washing dishes. Claire wanted to go to her, to hug her and ask how everything was, and why they were back here, but she couldn't move.

The kitchen door opened, and Aunt Sarah walked in. Claire's mother greeted her sister-in-law and motioned for her to sit down while she finished the dishes.

"Toby should be home with Sam soon, he finished cricket practice not long ago." Claire's mother said, drying he hands.

"How are they? I've been so busy with work that I haven't been around in ages. The new season is really taking off." Sarah said.

"They're well, Sam hasn't had an episode in nearly eight months."

Claire frowned. Episode? What did that mean?

"Really? That is good news. He was starting to worry me for a while. I've never seen a child go into that kind of grief for an imaginary friend. I suppose it really must have been just a stage he had to go through when he started school."

Sam had never had an imaginary friend! What were they talking about?

"Hmm, I've never heard of a child making up such a tale to explain where his imaginary friend went. All that talk of goblins and us having a spell on us to make us forget this _Claire._ His story was always so consistent! The last time he acted up is when we drove past a house in the city. Just an ordinary house, and he screamed and kicked and said that it was our real house, that we really lived there and that this Claire had been kidnapped by a goblin there. It was quite eerie. But about a week after that he stopped talking about it completely. Like she never existed. Of course Toby didn't help. He always made out to Sam that he was considering why he said, like it could be true. That just encouraged him."

"I suppose Toby just wanted Sam to know that you both trust him." Aunt Sarah said. If Claire hadn't been staring at her mother in shock, tears pouring down her face and her hands covering her mouth she might have noticed an uneasy look cross her Aunt's face.

"Trust is one thing, but when it's such an obvious lie he needed to be told that lying isn't right. But I know what you mean. He did what he thought was right." Claire's mother sighed, looking weary, and older than Claire remembered.

"But it's over now. Thank goodness. He's just a normal little boy, enjoying his cricket." The conversation shifted to more normal topics.

Claire couldn't move. Was what she was seeing true? Was this their life now? Was Sam really traumatised by her absence, certain of what he'd seen and his own parents thinking he was crazy?

"Not any more." A voice made Claire start. She realised that she'd whispered her questions out loud. Jareth had answered.

"When I realised that Sam still had some memories of you, I made doubly sure a new spell helped him readjust. Now he thinks you were an imaginary friend, just as his parents say. He's fine."

Jareth's face was expressionless. He was watching the two women at the kitchen table, now gossiping about a work colleague. Aunt Sarah shivered, and pulled her jacket closer. Claire's mother went to make her a cup of tea, and closed the window.

"Come. We should leave."

Jareth held out his hand to Claire, and she took it. She found herself standing in the same room where she'd been watching the rain and fallen asleep, thinking of her brother. The rain continued to pour. Jareth discreetly turned to watch it pour down the window pane as Claire wiped her eyes.

"How did that happen? Did you mean for me to see that?" Claire asked after a while.

"No, it seems that your powers continue to grow and change, and will manifest themselves with our without your willing it." Jareth didn't look away from the window.

"I would not wish you to think that your family is traumatised by…" Jareth pauses, thinking.

"I assure you, they are fine. Now, I must go, if…you are?" He faltered again.

"I'm fine, really." Claire tried to smile, and Jareth looked gravely back. He nodded sharply, then disappeared.

Claire stood a moment, thinking. Then she grabbed her bow and arrows and dashed off to her archery gallery, determined not to think of Sam.

* * *

Hope you liked, thanks for everyone who reviewed my last chapter. They make me want to write more, so keep 'em coming! xoxo


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